No Regrets
by Faerylyte
Summary: Carrie is reminded of a promise she made long ago after she is driven from her home village. Carrie/Malus
1. Prologue

**Title:** No Regrets  
**Pairing:** Carrie/Malus  
**Rating:** R-M  
**Summary:** Carrie is reminded of a promise she made long ago after she is driven from her home village.  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own Castlevania N64. All characters associated with the game belong to Konami and Nintendo and whoever else has rights to them, and I make no money off of this.

**Prologue**

Carrie Fernandez stared up at the stars, unaware of the tears falling freely down her cheeks. The low campfire crackled merrily as though to mock her pain. It was all over. Dracula was dead, her mother was avenged, and she was no longer allowed in the village. The villagers gathered with pitchforks claiming she was the one who had brought the wrath of the monster down on them, and the deaths of their cattle, and any other abnormal occurrence. They drove her out of town and now she had nothing but the clothes she wore and the few possessions in her pack. The worst of it was that they were right, at least about Dracula's minions. She had brought the monsters to the village when they came looking for her magick.

There was nothing left for her and no where to go. The wind howled through the trees causing her to shiver. She drew her cloak tighter about her shoulders and lay down on her sleeping sack. She pulled the blanket she'd taken from her pack earlier over her body and curled up, trying to ignore the fact that she was sleeping on the hard packed earth instead of in soft the bed she would have been sleeping in this night had she not been declared a witch and her house not been burned to the ground as a result.

Her pack was lumpy under her head, but it was the only pillow she had at the moment. She closed her eyes as another wave of despair washed over her at the thought of what she had lost. She finally gave in and quietly sobbed herself to sleep. Carrie lay in such exhausted slumber that she never felt the presence that glided into her small clearing.

Dark eyes swept over the curled up form huddled inside the sleeping sack. The dying fire cast dancing shadows over the part of her face that was visible above her blankets. There were deep bruises under her closed eyes and tear tracks were drying on her pale cheeks. Her hair was almost black in the darkness except where the light glanced off the indigo strands. Her face had matured and lost a great deal of soft roundness that it held as a child, but it wasn't completely because of her age he mused. It was sharper than it had been when they were both children, part of that was likely due to the fact that she hadn't been eating well. One gloved hand reached out hovering over her face. Tempting. So tempting to touch her, to offer the comfort she so desperately needed. He could ease her pain, make her forget that there was ever a reason to cry, and then he could make her forget anything but the comfort he had brought her. However that would be… terribly unsporting of him.

Teeth flashed in amusement at his private joke. He crept forward with feline grace, shifting his black coat away from his legs as he crouched down. From one of the hidden pockets of his coat he produced a small piece of parchment that slid quite easily into the mouth of her pack. The barest tip was visible, as though the parchment had always been there and only the jostling had unearthed its presence. Carrie was a clever enough girl, she would notice the paper and when she found it she would have the directions to his village. Pale lips pulled into a smile, and as suddenly as he appeared in the clearing the tall figure was gone. Carrie shivered in her sleep as a cold wind passed through her campsite. In the distance a wolf howled.

##

Morning arrived while Carrie gathered the clothes she had washed the day before in the small stream beyond the trees to the east from the line of rope she had stretched between two trees. She buried her nose in the fabric and wrinkled her nose. Beneath the smell of the soap was the lingering scent of smoke. Carrie gave a small sigh, realizing it would probably take at least a couple more washings to completely dispel the acrid smell. She took her clothes and some more of the rough bar she had used to try and clean her clothes and headed back to the stream.

Stripping quickly out of the long shirt she was using as her nightgown she placed all of the items on tree branches within reach of the bank of the small stream. The water was freezing, and she scrubbed herself down as quickly as possible. Her hair slapped against her body, the wet strands clinging around her shoulders and hips. By the time she was done her teeth were chattering violently. Carrie wrung her hair out as best as she could so it would stop dripping over her freezing flesh. She hustled to the bank to snatch up her clothes and pulled the rough green material over her head grateful for a layer between her and her sopping wet hair. She was of half a mind to hack it all off at her neck as it was when she was younger, but she liked the weight of it and the way it framed her face. At least she did when it wasn't _freezing_.

She flipped open her pack to stuff the shirt back in her pack and began to root around the sides to see if she had any food left. There should still be some bread wrapped in soft cloth, and there were the apples she had snatched. Surely she hadn't managed to eat all of them. As her hands dug around her fingers brushed over something that rustled beneath her fingers. She paused and felt around for the source until she pulled a folded slip of parchment out.

The paper was worn and crinkled, as though it had been hidden inside a pocket forever. The ink was faded and worn. And address was written on the outside and she opened it to see where she could have gotten such a thing. She glanced at the signature and felt her breath catch in her throat. Malus. The script was childish and ink blots splotched here and there on the page.

_Dear Carrie,_

_As you know my uncle has come to take me back home to my family's estate. I promised I would protect you, but being torn away from your side prevents me from fulfilling my promise. I fear I may never see you again, and I simply can't bear the thought. You have promised to be my bride when we are older and I am holding you to that. Please, please come to visit me whenever you feel like it. And if you do not feel like it before we are both old enough then I would appreciate it if you would visit for my sixteenth birthday. Surely that is old enough to be married? Write me whenever you get the chance, you're letters will always be welcome. _

_Forever__ yours,  
__Malus_

"What a little charmer," Carrie chuckled to herself. It was a surprise that she should stumble across this now. She couldn't even remember receiving the letter; it was all so long ago. She looked at the request to see him on his sixteenth birthday. His ninth birthday had passed shortly before his uncle had appeared to take him back to his family. She had only a vague impression of a well-dressed older man in black in a style similar to Malus's own clothes. She glanced at the date on the letter and mentally calculated Malus's age from the reference point she had. She winced. He would be seventeen now. She had missed his request to be at his party by a year. And she hadn't so much as written to him in all this time.

Still she had no where else to go. She did have his address if he was still living there. Her fingers traced over the writing on the parchment, all thoughts of food forgotten as she allowed herself to become lost betwixt memories and plans. Perhaps she should go to him. Yes that is what she would do. The village he lived in was only three days away. She wasn't naïve enough to believe he was still harboring his silly little crush, but visiting him would give her a chance to apologize in person. And while she was there perhaps she would be able to look for work. She never noticed the feral yellow eyes that tracked her progress around the camp as she readied herself to set out.


	2. Chapter 1

**Title:** No Regrets  
**Pairing:** Carrie/Malus  
**Rating:** R-M  
**Summary:** Carrie is reminded of a promise she made long ago after she is driven from her home village.  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own Castlevania N64. All characters associated with the game belong to Konami and Nintendo and whoever else has rights to them, and I make no money off of this. The OC's however are mine, and I'll thank you not to use them without my permission.

**Chapter 1**

Carrie smoothed the material across her hips and brushed the front of her dress off. She still hadn't managed to get the smell out of her clothes, but she didn't want to change into her nice dress until she had a chance to clean up. She bit her lips, and her hands tangled in the strap of her pack. She had a few coins in her bag, enough for a few nights at the tavern, but she'd have to find work quickly if she was planning on staying in town.

This was ridiculous, she narrowed her eyes. She was just going to drop in and visit Malus, if he was even willing to speak with her at this point, apologize and then head out to see what kind of jobs the village had available for a… vampire slaying witch. Right. She winced knowing that there really was so little that she was actually able to do. Perhaps there was an opening as a tavern wench, or as a seamstress assistant. She could sew, and serving table surely couldn't be too difficult to pick up. Still there was no reason to be so nervous. She defeated Dracula when she was still a girl, she could handle begging for work. The worst they can do is refuse, and if she was shamed by the experience, so be it.

Carrie's straightened her shoulders and with as much dignity as she could muster walked into the town. She stared around taking in the children running through the streets. There were a few shops lining the street to the sides and the tavern was at the very end of the street. Women in plain dresses with aprons happily bartered with the shop keeps and several men were tending horses, and loading wagons. She marveled at the cheerful villagers moving up and down the streets with purpose. She stopped to let some squawking chickens run in front of her. A couple of kids ran after them shouting happily.

She felt her lips part in wonder. This was amazing. She couldn't remember the last time she had been in a town that felt so… alive. It was true though. There was a sense of life here that had been lacking in the village she had been driven from. These people did not live in constant fear. She could feel her face settling into more relaxed lines, a tightness she wasn't even aware seeping from her shoulders. She could do this.

Carrie strolled into the tavern and paused for a second to take it in. It was much the same as the small inn of her village except the wooden tables were scattered around were different heights as some of the tables along the wall held couches instead of wooden chairs. There were several patrons scattered about, mostly men in drab tunics or white shirts with vests. The serving girl and barkeep both wore chemises with bodices and colored skirts that reminded her strongly of her childhood and the bright colors the gypsies favored. A couple of obviously moneyed patrons occupied one of the low couches to the right of the door. Carrie navigated through the tables and made her way to the bar, smiling back at the blonde serving girl who flashed her a quick grin before bustling into the kitchen.

The bar keep was a small woman who moved with quick jerky movements but offered an easy smile when she noticed the young woman making her way to the counter. Dark eyes studied long green dress that was covered with a simple cowl like jacket that was held in place with a red stoned brooch that matched her striking eyes. Certainly this girl looked nothing like a common villager for all that her clothes weren't those of the gentry. Wiping slender bony hands on a towel she gave a hearty greeting to the stranger.

"Well, _there's_ a lovely lass. Now what can we be helping you with?"

Rowana's smile became amused when she noticed the blush on the pale cheeks of the blue haired girl before her. Such an innocent one, she realized. This town would likely chew her up and spit her out given half a chance. She felt a wave of maternal something or other try to spring to life, but strangled the urge to become a protective wing for the girl. She had neither the power nor the daring to get involved, especially for one who was like to be leaving the next day.

"Hello. I was wondering if there was an extra room available that I could possibly rent until tomorrow?" the young woman held her gaze steady despite the blush and she spoke in a very confident manner. Perhaps the girl wasn't going to be in nearly the danger she had first assumed. Rowana nodded thoughtfully.

"Rooms are five gold a night and I'll be requiring the pay in advance, mind," the barkeep announced.

Carrie cringed at the amount, but she dug in her pack until she was able to reach the small inside pocket that held some of her money. She pulled the required amount from her bag and placed it on the smoothed wood of the counter. That was another difference from the small inn back in her old village. The wood was rough instead sanded smooth as this was. It was such a subtle difference but it bespoke of an attention to detail that most taverns she had been to would never have bothered with. Slender fingers snatched up the gold and dumped it into a little black pouch that went back down her blouse. With that the woman ducked beneath her counter before popping back up.

"Come along then," Rowana flourished the key and walked up the stairs beside her bar fully expecting the girl to follow her. "Supper is free with the room, in case you were wondering. Breakfast you'll have to scrounge up for yourself."

"That sounds fair enough," the girl agreed easily.

"Here's your room." The woman slipped the key into the lock and held the door open. She watched the girl slip inside and study the room. There was a bed with clean linens and a quilt a small bedside dresser. There was a table against the far wall with a wash basin and a vase of flowers that little Margie picked from the field out back just that morning. It wasn't anything to write home about, but it was a sight better than most dumps that people tried to pawn off as rooms for the night. That and the free meal made it worth every piece of gold.

"It's wonderful. Thank you," the girl smiled shyly at her and Rowana quirked an eyebrow at her.

"It's glad I am you think so. Name's Rowana by the way."

"I'm Carrie. Oh that reminds me! Can you tell me how I would get to the Sângeazil Manor?"

"Sâng- Why on earth do you want to go there child?" Rowana asked in amazement.

"Oh, I had a friend who was supposed to be staying there. Why? Is something the matter?"

"No, nothing. I'm just surprised."

"Surprised why?" Carrie asked. Her brows furrowed as she took in the far off look in the barkeep's face.

"I'm surprised that you would know anyone who lives there is all. Our lord resides at the manor and he conducts most of his business through his servants, people who live in this town. The servants who work for him don't stay at the manor they always come home for the day. And none of the townspeople venture there except in rare cases of emergency. It's difficult to imagine that there's anyone else living there that you could know."

"Is he a bad lord then?" the pack landed on the floor next to the bed and Carrie tested the spring of the bed with her hands.

"No, good heavens child, no! We are kept safe by him. Not even the vampires and weres that roam the hillsides are brave enough to stand up to our lord. Here there have been so few disappearances compared to the other villages. We have prospered as long as that family has been here."

Carrie smiled at that. It was good to know that Malus was part of something that carried such weight and had such a positive impact on the village. She suddenly wondered if that was why Dracula had gone after his family when he was young. A family with enough influence to stand against the evil creature who plagued the land; that certainly explained why the village lacked the oppressed feeling of the other ones she had passed through these past few days. Suddenly she was quite eager to see what kind of man Malus had become.

"How do I find the Manor?" Carrie asked, but then faltered. "Do you think I should send a message to ask if he's available? I don't even know if he's still there, the letter was from so long ago…"

"Tell you what; I have some paper that you can use to write a message on. You can have the letter sent over, and if you want to while you're waiting you can freshen up and have a bit of a rest before you get started making plans. There's even a bathing barrel in the next room there if you don't mind bringing the water buckets up yourself."

"A bath?" she asked hopefully. "With hot water and everything? What do I do?"

Rowana laughed at that and patted Carrie's hand.

"If you come with me I'll show you where you can get some heated water and I'll grab that paper for you. Come along."

##

"There's a message for you sir."

"Leave it."

The sound of a platter being left on a table was followed by the sound of retreating footsteps. One pale hand reached out to raise the envelope. Dark eyes skimmed the missive impassively. Then he let his head fall back as laughter burst from his throat in joyous peals. Oh she was here. She was here at last. Stealing glimpses of her from a distance over the years and seeing her sleep those few days ago hadn't been nearly enough. Now she was here, and he would keep her in place. As for the fools of the village… well they had served their purpose. It had taken months of senseless slaughter to get them to turn on her. With nothing to keep her in place she was finally turning to him as she should have long since. But that was not important now. All that was important was that she was coming home, his blushing bride to be.

He threw himself out of his chair started to pace before the fire as he began to make plans. A bedroom would have to be prepared. Preferably one in the same wing as his own so he would have… easier access during the courtship, and he was by no means stupid enough to believe that there wouldn't be a courtship period simply because she was bound in a contract to marry him. A carriage also. He would send a footman with the carriage to collect her and her belongings. It wouldn't do to make the poor girl walk farther than she already had the past few days. There should be flowers waiting for her in her room. Rosa had some lovely white roses that could be dedicated to the cause. He would have to send orders down to the cook to prepare a nice meal before he went home for the evening. A grey head nudged against his leg and he absently pet the wolf as he strode past. What else? Mmm, clothes, yes she would be in need of more clothes, but that could wait until she was settled in.

He caught sight of himself in the mirror and paused. Oh that wouldn't do at all. His clothes became brighter in place of the deep almost black purple he returned to the royal purple his child body had preferred. He shook his head. His deep violet-black hair shortened to his shoulders, and as with his clothes the violet grew more pronounced. His face lost the sharp angles, becoming rounder, smoothing into younger lines. There was a slight grinding crunch as his shoulders realigned to a narrower size. Slowly, slowly his body began to morph and his features melt until in the place of the twenty seven year old was a seventeen year old. Yes this was much closer to what Carrie would expect. He tried for an innocent smile but snickered at the effect. That definitely would not do at all. He'd have to go for restrained rather than innocent. Perhaps the two would be confused.

"Dragos! Attend!"

Dragos had always been a pale man, and death had not improved his color. His hair such a blond as to be near white, with ice crystal eyes he was very nearly an albino since his transformation. It was effect that was amplified by his favor for black clothes. Long of limb and slender, he moved with all the liquid grace of a deadly predator. Watching him move you would never mistake him for human. Faithful and discreet, the man also held an incredible affinity for slinking through shadows without drawing attention to his self despite his striking appearance.

When he arrived at his master's side his only response to the change in his appearance was a slight raise of his brows.

"You summoned me, Master?"

"I have business to attend elsewhere, but there is much to be done in the next couple of hours," the now youthful lord murmured. The wolf whined softly at his side. Dark eyes flicked down to meet molten gold

"Of course I am taking you Hecatomb, be at ease."

The wolf settled down on his haunches, apparently satisfied that his master would not forget to take him this time. The lord turned his attention back to his pale shadow.

"I want you to see to preparations for a much honored guest. Prepare a suite and arrange for a carriage to be sent to the inn. You must make sure the rooms are in the west wing. With flowers, there should be flowers, and any other indulgence that you can think to gather for a young woman. Have dinner prepared in case she is hungry."

The young man tapped his fingers against his chin in thought.

"Also you should hide all evidence of any less than savory past times. Keep the dungeons locked up so that the screams aren't audible elsewhere in the manor. We'll have to make sure any dead bodies we have are thrown to the werewolves in the forest, I can't have zombies or skeletons running about the place."

"No zombies or-- Might I be so bold as to ask what the occasion is?"

"You might. I will even allow it this once. Drago, our Queen is coming home."

Drago's eyes widened in understanding.

"The Lady…? I shall see to it personally, Sire."

"Yes, I know you will."


	3. Chapter 2

**Title:** No Regrets  
**Pairing:** Carrie/Malus  
**Rating:** R-M  
**Summary:** Carrie is reminded of a promise she made long ago after she is driven from her home village.  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own Castlevania N64. All characters associated with the game belong to Konami and Nintendo and whoever else has rights to them, and I make no money off of this. The OC's however are mine, and I'll thank you not to use them without my permission.

**Chapter 2**

Carrie woke to the feel of hands shaking her shoulders.

"Girl. Carrie, wake up!" a voice hissed urgently.

"Hu-what?" Carrie responded groggily.

"Get yourself up. You'll be wanting to dress, and quickly now." Rowana pulled Carrie's blankets off, to her sharp protest, and began to bustle about the room. "Honest, child, whatever you said in that definitely got someone's attention. There's a man from the manor as waiting for you with a coach downstairs."

"What?!" Carrie had been staring at the older woman blankly trying to understand what was going on, but the words only just seemed to be soaking in.

"It's truth. Jamison is waiting in the bar. He's got orders to take you and your bag to Sângeazil, that he's not to take no for an answer."

It took only a second from the time Carrie rolled to her feet to find her nice dress shoved into her hands with brusque orders to put that one on. Bemusedly she stripped off her night shirt and following the orders to wear the dress. It was difficult not to be taken in by the other woman's intensity and Carrie found herself rushing to get ready despite the fact that she still didn't quite understand what was going on at the moment. As soon as her brooch was fixed in place she felt the coarse bristles of her brush being tugged through her hair. She held still allowing her mind to process what was happening as she felt her hair being separated into strands that were being weaved into a quick braid. Malus must have gotten her letter, and now she was being herded off to meet him? She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and stifled a yawn. Quick fingers tied her braid off with a pink bow.

"There, that's got you ready," the woman announced.

"Well? How do I look?" Carrie turned around.

Deep brown eyes looked her over carefully. "You'll do well enough. Here's your bag, and be quick. Jamison has been waiting for a while and if you keep too long he'll like to be starting another cup of ale. Since he's on business I've offered him free drink while he was waiting, but you can't let him get too many under his belt. The last thing you need is to be run into a tree because a drunken coach driver got off the path."

Carrie giggled at the mental image. Impulsively she hugged the older woman, grateful for the woman's mother-henning.

"Thank you Rowana. I really appreciate what you've done for me."

"Yes well… you'd best hurry now. No point doing all that rushing about and then wasting time saved on awkward goodbyes. Take care."

Against her will she felt excitement zinging through her veins at the thought of meeting Malus again after all these years. Clutching her bag to her chest she gave the tavern keep a tremulous smile and rushed downstairs to meet her ride. She came out in the main bar and immediately her eyes zeroed in on a man in a dark suit with a top hat. As soon as his eyes landed on her he put down his ale and hastily stood up wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his gold trimmed jacket.

"Miss," he tipped his hat respectfully. "Arnet Jamison at your service. I'm to take you up to the manor, my Lord's orders. Here, let me take your bag."

Carrie jerked back from his reaching hands. Then she laughed nervously, and shifted her bag under her arm. She hadn't taken the time to pull her blade rings from her pack and she wasn't willing to be parted from her meager belongings as yet. Especially with her most treasured possession squirreled away in the bottom. He looked uncomfortable with her refusal to relinquish her bag to be loaded up; he obviously wasn't sure how to react. Then he got his features under control and fixed a smile into place.

"Oh that's really not necessary. Um, I'm Carrie, by the way."

"Of course you are Miss. Shall we be on our way?"

He gallantly bowed and held her elbow as she made her way down the front steps. She set her pack on the padded velvet seat and she allowed the driver to help her up inside. He closed the door behind her and soon she was alone in the carriage. She pulled back from the window she sat next to when she noticed the people in the street all turning to gawk at the sight they made going by. Looking for an excuse to keep from meeting the eyes staring up at her she began to dig through her pack for her cloak which she pulled out and settled across her legs. Her bracelets were there she slipped those into place as well. It was still early evening and the day had been warm. There wasn't a real need for the cloak, but it seemed silly to put it away when she'd gone to the trouble of pulling it out, and she reasoned to herself that she didn't know how long the ride would last so she might need it before they get there. And weapons were always appropriate to keep on hand.

The coach swayed and she found her body rocking with the gentle motions. As soon as they cleared the town she shifted back over to look out the window, watching the muddy brown track beneath the wheels blur as they passed by. They rolled from the village onto the small path cutting through endless line of trees, green branches arching above them. She saw a wolf pass between two trunks and then freeze when it caught sight of the carriage. There was an endless moment when Carrie's eyes met those of the wolf. Gold stared into red, and she forgot how to breathe. Then they passed a tree. Carrie looked again the wolf was gone. She shivered lightly and pulled her cloak up around her shoulders.

Leaning back against the seat she allowed her mind to wander. She wondered exactly what she was doing here. Less than a week ago now she had been happily living in her home on the edge of the village and quietly helping women who came to her with requests for lotions and creams. It was a nice little side business and it allowed her to buy the stuff that she had been unable to figure out how to make. Now she was sitting in lushly upholstered carriage going to meet… who? Malus? His uncle? She didn't even know. She wasn't even sure why she was going. Her head tilted to rest against soft material of the wall. Briefly she wondered who padded even the sides of a carriage. For someone used to hitching a ride in the backs of hay wagons it was very surreal, and not a bit wasteful to her mind.

The carriage continued to gently sway as they continued on. The smell of the forest and rich soil floated through the windows as a breeze picked up, faint and comforting. She pulled her legs up to curl them to the side. She pulled her pack over until it was partially on her lap and partially propped against the wall beneath ribcage. That was about the time she realized that her sleeping sack wasn't attached to the belts at the bottom, and she'd have to go back to the tavern to pick it up later. There was no point worrying about it right now she decided. She shifted her cloak more closely about her shoulders and let her eyes drift close to the soft creak of the wheels and clop-clop of the horses hooves slogging along the muddy track.

The sudden realization that she was no longer moving was what first penetrated the hazy fog of sleep. She blinked her eyes open; oh her eyelids were so heavy. She shoved herself into an upright position and rubbed her eyes. A jaw cracking yawn escaped before she could stop it. Relatively awake now she twined her arms in the air above her head before bending them toward her shoulders as she arched in the hopes of working the kinks in her back out. It was an effort that was met with mixed results she decided as she twisted her torso right and left until her back finally popped.

That was how Arnet found her when he opened the door. The girl started and then gave him a sleepy smile. Pulling her cloak up around her shoulders from where it had slid back into her lap when she woke up, and then she grabbed onto the bag that she seemed so attached to and let him help her from the carriage. She murmured her thanks and stared up at her first glimpse of what she didn't yet realize was her new home. The driver studied her face instead of the manor as he was sure the Master would want to know all about her response.

The construct loomed above them, with pale stone walls that were countered by the almost delicate arches of the doorway. Large spire tipped turrets framed either side of the building and the second story had a balcony overlooking the front yard that was fenced in by delicate wrought iron. As Master was allowing Rosa free reign over all the gardening decisions, roses lined the porch to either side of the entrance. The well tended grass was held back by a cobble stoned pattern leading up to the front steps, and climbing roses crept up the walls and wrapped along the archways of the front porch. A mixture between a castle and a mansion, cast in light of the dying sun it was drenched in gold and shone brightly against the backdrop of the forest that surrounded it on all sides.

"Welcome to Sângeazil Manor."

"It's beautiful," she breathed.

"Let's get you inside then shall we?"

He ushered her through the door and deeper into the foyer where they were met by a young woman in a black maid's outfit with a pressed white apron. A black ribbon held curled honey-brown hair that fell to just above her shoulders away from her face. She couldn't have been much younger than Carrie herself was and her bright green eyes sparkled as they lit on her. A wide grin stretched across the girl's lips and she bounced forward to pull the startled witch into an enthusiastic hug. Carrie stiffened, startled at the unexpected enthusiasm of the stranger greeting her.

"Lady Carrie! You're here!"

"Sarai! Mind yourself. She hasn't even been settled in and here you are attacking her. What are you doing here anyway, eh?"

The girl pulled away to stick her tongue out at Jamison.

"I'm not attacking her, I was just saying hello. We're all so happy you're finally here! Master has been waiting for you forever, and he was ever so excited when he got your letter!" she seemed to catch herself mid thought. "Oh, he was called away on business right after Jamison left to get you, so he asked me to make sure you get settled in properly. He wasn't a bit happy about it, either, but it wasn't something he could put off, else wise he would have been the one to help you from your carriage there's no doubt!"

Carrie's escort heaved a big sigh when he noticed her wide eyes.

"Miss Carrie, this is little Sarai, the Levenski's youngest. Her parents work in the kitchen, and they should have supper ready for you soon. Sarai, please make sure she gets settled in, I have to go tend to the horses. And curb your pestering; she's needing rest more than she's needing to be jumped on."

The man tipped his hat at Carrie and strode back out the door. The newly introduced Sarai stuck her tongue out at his back and tossed her head before zeroing in on the Master's fiancé. She took in the indigo hair was pulled back into a braid with a few stray strands escaping to frame her remarkable eyes. The rest of her was hidden by a somewhat ragged brown travel cloak.

"Here, let's get that cloak off of you and then we can get you settled in!" Sarai tugged the unsightly brown travel cloak from the other girl's shoulders and hung it on the coat rack, completely ignoring the halfhearted protests of the girl. Then she turned to study Carrie more closely now that she wasn't hidden beneath the shapeless cloak.

She was a pretty thing, all slender curves wrapped in material that was such a pale pink it was very nearly white. The short sleeved dress fell in a simple straight cut from her shoulders. Around her waist was a small sash of darker pink that was held in place by a large pin with a blood red stone. Gold hoops that matched the bracelets on her wrists hung on the sash on either side of the stone. Beneath the hem of her long dress a pair of brown boots peeked out. If this were the Lady's tastes then Mama could easily make more clothes for her, Sarai decided.

"Come on then! Let me show you your room, it's so pretty. And then once we drop off your things I'll show you to the dining room. Unless you just want to go to sleep?"

"Well, I… I haven't had anything to eat since this morning," Carrie stammered out. She was feeling slightly overwhelmed by the other girl's bubbly-ness. They were walking down a hallway and Carrie was barely taking any of the decorations in. How could she focus on statuettes and vases with a guide like Sarai? The girl gave a little cheering noise.

"I'm so glad you chose eating! Master asked Papa to make sure to prepare supper even though he wasn't going to be here in case you were hungry. Papa has been making his special goulash. And I helped bake bread so it's all fresh. You definitely wouldn't want to miss out on this!"

"I- by Master, you_ do_ mean Malus right?" Carrie latched onto the only thought her mind was capable of forming the wake of such enthusiasm.

"Of course! We call him Master because he says Master Malus is too much of a mouthful. Who else would we be talking about?"

"I don't know. I thought he went to live with his uncle…?" Carrie trailed off, not sure how to ask her question.

"Well yes, there is also Master Lucien, but he's pretty much retired. He's been allowing Master to take over in the past couple of years, but even if Master Lucien hadn't retired I doubt he'd want to see you nearly as much as Master Malus wants to see you," the girl finished with a sly look. Thankfully Carrie didn't have to come up with a response to that.

"Here's your room! Drago had it especially made up for you!"

"Drago?" Carrie asked, not sure she wanted to know.

"Um, he's Master's man servant, and advisor? I'm not sure exactly what his official title is, he kind does whatever Master tells him to, but he gets to tell Master what to do sometimes too. They're really close."

"So Drago is Malus's friend?"

"Friend is one word for it I guess," Sarai agreed dubiously. Then she shrugged and flung open the bedroom door so Carrie could step inside. The blue haired girl paused on the threshold and stared.

"Oh wow."

##

A steady wind began to sweep through the trees. Lightening flicked beyond the streaked glass as heavy rain continued to strike the ground. The glass door leading to the balcony burst inward, allowing the cold wet air to accompany the soaked figure inside. The shadowy grey form of Hecatomb streaked inside past his legs and then paused to shower everyone in the room with the excess water from his furred coat. There was a general outcry from the occupants of the room as the wolf padded over to the fire with an air of self satisfaction. Malus ignored the byplay as he was dwelling on his own inconvenience at the moment.

"I command the forces of darkness. I raise the dead. My power is such that all of humanity cowers before me, with the notable exception of Belmont's spawn, may no life descend from his remaining bastards. And_ yet_, for all my power I don't own a single cloak that won't get soaked all the way through in this accursed weather," he griped irritably. The hood of his black cloak was plastered to his head, and he braced one hand against the doorway as he ripped the offending material off with his other. His hair fell about his shoulders in tangled clumps and he glared at no one and everything in general. There was a sharp sucking noise as he peeled it the rest of the way off and let it fall to the floor with a heavy plop.

The purple haired boy waved his hand behind him causing the glass door to swing closed with a dangerous rattle. Crimson streaked the pale wood of the frame where his gloved hand had been braced during his struggle with the clothes. His clothes were black from the rain and pink water dripped to the floor as water mingled with the blood coating his person. Crimson stained his mouth and chin, glistening red was spattered over his high cheekbones. The red glow faded away from his eyes leaving a deep violet blue in its wake.

"Your whining cost that entrance some of the intimidation factor it could have had," Drago remarked languidly from where he sat sipping a village woman from his wine glass. The body was sprawled out between his legs, her brown skirt bunched up around her thighs, and her dark crème blouse shoved down to her waist. Empty eyes stared up at Malus from beneath reddish blonde hair, and one shoe was missing.

"I do hope you're planning on getting rid of that thing before one of the humans with access to this section of the house wanders in." Malus icily ignored his seneschal's observation in favor criticizing his eating habits. Then his eyes narrowed. "Where did you get it anyway?"

"Ah, this is the lovely middle daughter of one of the stable hands. We'll have to be appropriately sorry for his loss later on."

"Drago, I've asked you several times to limit your hunting of our own stock. There are plenty of other villages to pick and choose from in the area," Malus pointed out as he fastidiously pulled his gloves from his hands.

"And I have explained that we must have a few losses so that no over ambitious hunters come tolling for our secrets about why our village is safe from the monstrous attacks that the other villages are subject to," Drago countered calmly.

"You killed the old man who lived at the butcher shop less than two weeks ago. It is too soon," Malus dropped the gloves on the floor next to Hecatomb who gleefully began to chomp at the bloodied leather.

"Enough. The body will be disposed of and your little human will not hear a peep of it," a soft voice cut in. Sarai pushed herself from the chair with a dark look at the wolf that followed her with too intelligent eyes. She strode up to Malus and wrapped her arms lightly around his neck making sure to keep enough space between them that the front of her dress never came into contact with the wet man. Sarai licked delicately at his chin with a small pink tongue.

"Carrie is here and settled? How does she seem?" Malus fell still as Sarai cleaned his face with quick, cat like efficiency.

"She's abed now and quite exhausted from her trials." Sarai pulled back to smirk at him. "Or did you mean how did she personally seem to us?"

Malus frowned at the girl in front of him. He had always overindulged her, and she was such a cheeky thing as a result. She had yet to try to kill him though so he would probably continue to tolerate her antics. Sarai always somehow knew just how far she could push without ever going quite too far, and she was amongst his most faithful. Her smirk became a smile as she noticed the look on his face. Poor dear, he was having such a bad night dealing with naughty villagers, and snippy servants. And of course there was the ongoing battle against the elements that he always lost.

"All's well, my lord. She's safely settled and has no idea of your true intentions for her. As to what we all think about her, I believe we are all in agreement on her. She is quite adorable and it will be no hardship to befriend and serve her… provided you can convince her to marry you."

"She's bound by air to marry me regardless of what she desires; I would simply have a peaceful marriage. Her power is such that it would be a waste to slaughter her out of hand if she can be turned to our cause."

"Your body is young and your manner will be guided by the instincts of the body you choose. Do not allow the impulse of youth to blind you to the demands of the cause," Sarai cautioned, knowing how hard it was to resist the demands of the form that a vampire was bound to. Her own body was quite young, and she found herself frequently falling into the patterns she held as a child while wearing this younger form.

"Just what are you getting at?" Malus muttered in a sulking voice.

"Unlike some here, I have not yet met the girl, so perhaps I am speaking out of turn, but… Would now be the time to point out that when last you wore such a young body and chose to lay with a _witch _as your wife you brought another dhampir into this world? Since poor Ecaterina was not expecting such a creature to come from her body she tried to destroy us all. This one must know the truth even if she cannot love you."

"Nonsense Drago," Sarai spoke sharply, green eyes flashing. "Little Carrie is nothing like Ecaterina. We will make her welcome and we will make her love us all too much to want to kill us even after she finds out the truth."

The girl drew away to begin pacing furiously. She began to mutter imprecations about the previous Lady who had dared to rise against their beloved master. The two men stared at her then they shared a look with each other over Sarai's head. Then Drago gave an elegant shrug of his shoulders. Ecaterina had always been a bit of a tender subject to Sarai. She paused abruptly and turned to address them quite seriously.

"Yes. We will help you win her affections, so you will have more than empty acquiescence when you marry. She will love you as much as we do," the small brunette vowed. Malus smiled faintly, a well of deep affection that he held for her showing briefly through his eyes.

"Eh, well. It can't hurt anything to try. If she proves to be a danger we can always kill her later, but if she has a heart that can accept you then that will be a boon to us all," Drago raised his glass in a toast to their plan. "To your future lady wife, My Lord."


	4. Chapter 3

**Title:** No Regrets  
**Pairing:** Carrie/Malus  
**Rating:** R-M  
**Summary:** Carrie is reminded of a promise she made long ago after she is driven from her home village.  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own Castlevania N64. All characters associated with the game belong to Konami and Nintendo and whoever else has rights to them, and I make no money off of this. The OC's however are mine, and I'll thank you not to use them without my permission.

**Special Notes (Please Read):** This is Chapter 3, otherwise known as my apology chapter. The characters are all very sorry to each other, I'm sorry for taking so long to update this, I'm very sorry that some of it may not seem pertinent, but it does cover some background and… Okay I'll be honest, I have no idea what happened with this chapter. It really just ran away without me. But Carrie and Malus finally meet, and so do Carrie and Drago, sort of, so this chapter does serve some purpose.  
**With that said** I would like to take a moment to thank Lisa and williewildcat for your support and for apparently being the only other people who care that this game ever existed. I truly do appreciate knowing that other people are enjoying this fic, even if there are only a couple of you, and I hope you do enjoy the rest of the story. And really, about this chapter… I am _so_ sorry.

**Chapter 3**

"Good morning!" a chirpy voice cried as the heavy drapes were flung open. Immediately followed by, "Gyah! It's bright out there!"

Carrie flinched violently from the sudden light stabbing her face with warm fingers that tried to pry her clenched eye lids open. She could only agree with the voice's second opinion as she dove beneath her blanket. Vicious swear words erupted from her mouth without thought while she wriggled around under the blankets trying to find the dream she had misplaced in the confusion of waking.

Giggles, that came from somewhere over by where she remembered the cursed window to be, washed over her. The previous day's events came back to her as she struggled to figure out where she was that she would be subjected to such a sadistic awakening. Walk, tavern, manor… ah, Sarai, of course. The witch rolled her eyes but resolutely ignored the laughter at her expense as she tried to force herself back to sleep. It was going to be a perfectly wasted effort she knew but the blue haired witch was grimly determined to try anyway.

"Wake up! Wake up sleepy head! Get up, get up out of bed!" Sarai sang gleefully.

Carrie's sanctuary was ripped from her body and her dive for the blankets resulted in them being yanked completely off the bed. She stared forlornly at the pile of blankets from where she lay on her stomach half hanging off the bed. She twisted her head around glare. It was, Carrie decided, a definite blow to the ego to wake up against someone who looked so pretty and together so early in the morning.

With her honey brown hair pulled up into a ribboned ponytail, Sarai wore a completely different outfit today than her maid's clothing of the day before. Her blue village cut dress not dissimilar to Carrie's own dresses, but hers was made of much finer material, slippery shining material-satin. The dress hiked up on one side to reveal more of the glossy fabric underneath except this time in green. Her short puffed sleeves were trimmed in gold and there was an embroidered design done with different shades of blue, purple and gold in patterns that resembled peacock feathers marching down the center of her dress. The design narrowed on the way down her chest before tapering to a v shape near her waist. Centered between her breasts was a delicate amethyst brooch that the design spiraled out from. Gold slippers peaked out from underneath the green and blue materials of her dress.

Sarai looked beautiful. She also looked entirely too happy.

Carrie pushed upright, suddenly not caring one whit what she herself looked like at that second. Strands of frazzled hair fell into her face and she could feel the way her braid was bunched up in the back. Her bed clothes were rucked up around her arms and legs, twisting in unnatural ways around her limbs. Her lips tugged down into grim frowning lines. She was certain her face was creased red from pressing into the pillow and she could only hope that added to the effect of her most evil glare.

"What time is it?"

"It's just after sunrise and breakfast is only an hour away!" Sarai chirped as annoyingly as she could. Carrie was positive the girl was being purposely annoying. No one could be that disgustingly cheerful just after sunrise.

"I'm going back to bed," Carrie announced flatly.

"Ohh, don't be like that! You have to get ready. Master is going to meet you downstairs and personally escort you to breakfast."

Carrie blinked at her, completely thrown by the introduction of Sarai's master into the conversation.

"I- Malus is going to be there for breakfast?" the blue haired girl asked in a surprised voice.

"Of course he is. He lives here," Sarai pointed out archly.

"I know _that_." Carrie tossed Sarai another dark look. Her eyes skipped around in search of a mirror as she suddenly grew self conscious. Her hands automatically began to smooth her clothes out and she tried to pat and tuck her hair into some semblance of order without her even realizing she was doing so. Suddenly pillow creases were a lot less useful than they had seemed a second ago. "I just- wasn't expecting to see him so soon is all," she added. "Today I mean. I was ready to meet him last night because I was expecting it then, but now, I…"

Sarai cocked her head as she regarded the other girl.

"You're nervous!" she goggled at the blue haired girl as understanding hit her. "Of meeting Master? When he's been waiting all this time just for you? Whatever are you nervous for?"

"That he won't like me. That I won't like him. That he might be serious about wanting to marry me even though we were children when we made that agreement and he doesn't really know me."

'_That I might be crazy enough to go along with him if he decides he is serious whether or not I should because I'm so _tired_ of being alone all the time,'_ she added silently to herself.

"Listen to me. The fact that you are even asking yourself any of that after sleeping in a room like this is a pretty good indication that you will be good for him. And I can't imagine him not being good enough for anyone so everything will be fine. And yes, he was serious. The fact that you were children when you made that deal notwithstanding, he knew enough to be sure of his decision. You were kind to him even though you were in the middle of a personal siege against the most powerful being in the land, which just goes to show that you are every bit as strong as you are pretty and kind."

The witch tried to protest the other girl's assessment of her character. She'd concede the powerful since not many people were capable to the energy blasts she could generate, but she certainly didn't feel pretty or kind at the moment. Sarai ignored her.

"Now, hush. I had your dresses cleaned while you were sleeping but I think you should wear the pink one. Here are some slippers that I thought would fit. They should go better with it than your boots. And sometime today you're going to meet Mama and she'll take your measurements for more dresses."

"My measurements for more dresses?" Carrie repeated stupidly. Sarai gave an agreeing hum. "She'll be making your wedding dress as well."

"_Wedding dress?_" Carrie was beginning to wonder if it had been a good idea to even come to the area at all. How could Sarai so casually assume that she and Malus were going to be married? Why was Sarai already considering dresses being made for her when the girl couldn't possibly be sure that she wasn't going to chicken out and run for mountains before the end of this conversation? Everything was so overwhelming that Carrie felt as though she couldn't quite get her footing. She was beginning to vaguely wonder if she'd ever get her footing again.

"Certainly. Mama makes the most wonderful dresses."

Sarai gave a small pirouette that she ended with an exaggerated curtsey. "Don't you think so?"

"That's your mother's work?"

"Yes, and she'll be making your clothing while you stay here too." The brunette nodded firmly.

"That's incredible," Carrie murmured faintly. It was undecided in her mind whether she was referring to the dress or the fact that someone else was going to be making her one. Her mind skittered away from the idea of a wedding dress and focused completely on the regular dresses this poor woman was planning on making her already. The green villager's dress she'd sewn once she'd outgrown her childhood dress was her most common attire, and was on its third reconstruction. She could never afford enough regular material to make a full dress, so she ended up salvaging what she could and merged the new material with any of the old that she was able to. She'd gotten quite good at making the differences seem intentional.

The pink dress was an extravagance she'd allowed herself in celebration of surviving. It was during a good time when she'd had the extra money that she'd stumbled across a tinker selling the bolt of pink material amongst his wares. This was shortly after her defeat of Dracula and the village was feeling kindly inclined toward her for her efforts, so money had not been as scarce as it had grown to be. Carrie had hovered over the material and dickered with the tinker even as she'd argued with herself over the price. Finally he'd made a sly comment about claiming it before another lovely gadjé came this way and snatched it up from beneath her nose. She'd absently corrected him that she was only gadjé raised, and he'd better not being thinking that she was completely unfamiliar with the antics of wandering Roma. He'd offered her a wonderful deal when he realized she was a gypsy child and in a fit of insanity she'd decided to accept.

She and the graying tinker had spoken often after that first meeting. Whenever he was in the area she offered him lodgings and he offered her a fuller glimpse into the history of her mother's people. It was a mutually beneficial situation since he got a place to stay and she finally had one she could call a friend. She would cook and perform dances for him that he invariably corrected. He would weave elaborate stories and bemoan the fact that she was a failure as a gypsy and that he must attempt to correct her ignorance. Finally she understood the odd ideas she'd held since a baby that her adoptive mother would throw up her hands over when she refused to change, and her tinker friend had nodded his head in approval at how easily she picked the language and ideas up.

Every time he came to stay with her the older man had asked about the pretty material that she'd all but stolen from him, or so he maintained with gap toothed grin. She'd scoffed at the question and primly informed him that the material was too fine for everyday use, and she hadn't decided what she wanted to make with it. Truthfully she had been reluctant to try anything with it when she felt her skills at sewing to be so lacking. So she'd held it stored safely away in a chest with her most treasured possessions. Finally Petiro talked her into making a pretty dress for her self; he managed to make her believe that she'd had enough practice since childhood. She'd allowed herself to be convinced by his arguments and the old man had been the first one she'd modeled the dress for when she finished it last year. He'd crowed about how right he was and he'd danced her around the kitchen table in merriment.

Pensively she wondered what the old man was doing now. If he stopped by her house would he know that the villagers had driven her away? She wondered if he would be upset. There was no way of knowing where he was right then, so there was no way of sending him a note to let him know what happened and that she was safe. She hoped he wouldn't be driven from the village as well if they realized he was her friend. Surely not, she decided. Petiro was nothing if not practical and he would never reveal information that could be dangerous. He would pass by her house and make casual inquiries of anyone who came along as to what happened to the burned out shell of what had been the house at the edge of the village. Although it was sad that she'd like as never see the kindly old gypsy ever again.

"Hey now, why are you so sad all of a sudden?" Sarai's voice dragged her back to the present.

Carrie shook her head and smiled up at the concerned green eyes regarding her.

"Nothing, I was just thinking of a friend of mine and wondering how he was doing, is all."

"He?" The word was sharper than Sarai apparently intended because she smoothed her expression and added more neutrally, "I suppose you were very close to this friend of yours?"

"But of course. In fact he used to come and stay with me before I lost my house." Carrie managed to keep a perfectly straight face as she said this. She couldn't imagine Petiro as any sort of romantic interest for _anyone_, but she couldn't resist poking at the other girl's defensiveness.

Now it was Sarai's turn to frown. The witch tried to hold her own serious expression but she broke down into a snigger at the look on the other girl's face. She grabbed a pillow to hide behind as her shoulders shook with giggles. When she thought she had them under control she raised her head to look at the other girl, but she lost to them again and dropped her face back into the fluffy softness.

"Oh for-" Carrie could actually hear Sarai's eye roll.

"Sorry, sorry," Carrie gasped out. She raised her head again. "It's just the look on your face," she had to stifle her laughter again. A pillow flew at her head and she yelped in protest. She looked up to see Sarai's green eyes dancing.

"I can't believe you let me think you were serious."

"I can't believe you woke me up like that," Carrie countered easily.

"So you _do_ have a sense of humor in there. I was starting to worry. About that and whether or not I was going to have to take out Master's competition," Sarai added lightly.

"Petiro could never be romantic competition for Malus or anyone else for that matter. He really is just a friend. Though it is rather cute that you seem so concerned about Malus's happiness though," the witch decided. "You must really care about him."

"We all do. And you will too. Now go take a bath," the girl ordered with a delicate sniff of the air to indicate how much she thought Carrie needed one. Carrie shook her head, but got up anyway and started to make her way to the door Sarai pointed her to. There was no way she was going to pass up the opportunity of a bath even if she'd just had one the day before. She couldn't imagine ever turning down the offer of a bath.

"I'll just leave your dress- what's this?" Sarai was distracted by a book sitting on the bedside table next to the chair where she laid the dress down.

"Don't touch that!"

Sarai jerked upright in surprise to see Carrie dive past her to grab the book and clutch it to her chest. The witch seemed as startled by her own outburst as Sarai felt. Carrie ducked her head and blushed. Sarai dropped her hand and took a cautious step back.

"I'm sorry, I just-" Red eyes raised and stared anxiously.

"No, it is I who should be sorry. I didn't mean to distress you by prying where I shouldn't have." The words were quiet, and the sudden formality to her tone made Carrie cringe.

"This book is very special. It's nothing personal. I don't let_ anyone_ touch it. I didn't mean to overreact. You had no way of knowing and I shouldn't have left it out in the open like that."

"Well, now we both know better, so back to business, yes?" Sarai smiled brightly to cover the awkward moment. "Oh, extra towels are in the cabinet beside the tub, along with soap and scents if you feel like adding any of those to your bath. And then I'll take you downstairs and Master will be there to escort you to breakfast!" Sarai was back to being bouncy once more.

Carrie nodded and with a grateful look made her way to the bathing room. The book was still carefully tucked against her chest. Green eyes watched her progress thoughtfully.

##

'_Sire, we're approaching the stairs now,'_ Sarai's voice whispered through his mind.

'_I'm coming,'_ he answered back the same way. He stood up from his desk and stacked the pile of papers he'd been working on to the side. A glance around showed that everything was in order. Hecatomb glanced up hopefully from the treat he was happily gnawing on by the empty fireplace.

"No you may _not_ come. And take that thing outside before somebody sees you," Malus added severely. Ears flattened against his skull, Hecatomb slinked out of the office through the open balcony doors with the bloody severed hand between his teeth. Malus shook his head after the retreating form and then strode from his office. He really was going to have to do something about his subordinate's understanding of 'no dead bodies or mangled limbs' being left around the place.

There was a belief among his followers and his enemies that he was able to teleport from place to place. This was not true. He was however able to ride the shadows and appear between places in a process so quick amongst those who hold a physical form as to seem instantaneous. There was a danger as holding the form of a shadow too long ran the risk of one losing themselves to the shadows, as he once had. The memory was one he very carefully avoided thinking about, one he refused to share with anyone. However it was his quickest means of traveling, and there was little enough danger as long as he kept the distances he traveled relatively short.

With each step the shadows welcomed him enfolding him until he himself was one. He flowed along the walls, slipping through cracks beneath doors and edging below sunlight. There was freedom here. There was joy. When the dimmed form of his foyer flashed into sight he slowed. There was… there was something he was supposed to be doing here. He stilled, forcing an image of his mortal body over the shade that he was. Gathering his will he slowly began pulling himself free of the folds of shadow. Sucking tendrils of darkness lapped at his mind, fighting against the separation. Why was he resisting? He was one of them, one with them. Why would he want to be alone again? No, there was a reason. He struggled against the impulse to linger and lose himself to the formless freedom that beckoned him. He felt a weight where there was none, feeling tingling in reforming limbs, and as quickly as he had become shadow he became Malus as he knew his form to be called.

Seconds after being called by Sarai he stood at the bottom of the stairs. He shook his shoulders and pressed his palms over his lapels to smooth his jacket back in place. His hands traveled over his hair to check for stray strands until he caught the gesture and forced his arms to stillness at his sides. He understood logically that his face and form were attractive to women, but he knew… surprisingly little of the preferences his wife-to-be and he held a nervousness at the thought that he was not what she hoped for. He was neither as tall nor as well muscled as he would be when he was fully mature. And he was exceptionally pale as he disliked venturing out in daylight without cause, for all that his body could withstand sunlight. Would she be displeased that he was so pale and slender? He had been a child of charming appearance and he'd heard no complaints as his mortal body had aged. He could only hope that if Carrie did not desire him immediately that she maintained a fondness for the child she remembered and that she would allow that to grow into something more.

His mortal form would eventually come to resemble his original form more as he grew older until the two were fully merged into one entity and he stopped ageing completely. At least the aging would stop until someone drove a stake through his heart or one of Belmont's spawn attacked him with that infernal whip. If he could win Carrie to his side perhaps he could keep his fully merged form intact for a change. That would be the trick of the matter though. He had to win over a woman who held his ideas and his very nature in abhorrence, but if he were successful… He felt a quiver of anticipation thrum through his blood at the thought, and he silently cursed the need to expose himself to such useless emotions. Truly wearing the form of his mortal body had several drawbacks. One of which was the uncertainty and the eagerness of youth. Sarai had warned him against this very thing, and he would do well to remember that he would have to better control himself than this. He tugged on the dark gloves covering his hands, pulling the soft material firmly against his flesh.

Footsteps sounded near the top of the stairs and jerked him from his nervous personal assessment. He looked up and caught his first openly permitted glance at his fiancé since they were children. She was wearing a pale pink dress with red slippers peeking from beneath the hem. Her hair was held in a loose braid and her face was held in profile as she was holding what looked to be a heated discussion with the girl at her side. The peacock dress sparkled in the light and quite suited Sarai's vanity he decided absently before his eyes were drawn back to Carrie Fernandez. Even with the simple lines that clung to her she managed to appear every bit as striking in appearance as his little Sarai.

The blue haired witch gave a firm shake of her head to whatever it was that Sarai said. A blush swept over her cheeks at the sly look on the brunette's face, and she tossed her head as she flung an answer back. At that instant he had a sudden image of a fiery horse that had yet to be tamed to ride. Malus was sorely tempted to listen in on the conversation but he had promised himself that he would respect the girls' privacy. Besides it would make this less… sporting if he had all the answers. He'd determined to win her the old fashioned way instead of stealing her will and claiming her as his bride. Besides if it was truly important to his suit he knew that Sarai would repeat it to him later. Cheeky little imp that she was there was no way the child would resist the chance to meddle in a relationship that she had decided to encourage. The point was quite moot in any event as the two of them became aware of his presence at the bottom of the stairs and the conversation died.

Striking red eyes turned to regard him. Her sharp gaze swept over his form before settling on his face. Her expression was quite unreadable at that instant and he could not be sure of the impression he was making as he stood waiting for her decision. Sarai gave her a small nudge from behind and she had to take a step down to keep from losing her balance. Carrie tossed a look back over her shoulder that quite clearly promised retribution later and was met with Sarai's irrepressible grin. Carrie let out a small huff and then returned her attention to him as she gracefully picked her way down the stairs, one hand holding her skirts high enough to keep from tripping. He found the flash of delicate ankles exposed by the gesture pleasantly distracting as she descended toward him. She came to a stop three steps from the bottom.

Malus reached one gloved hand out to brace on the knob that decorated the end of the railing he stood near. He cocked his head and allowed a small smile to cross his face, hoping that it appeared shy and inviting to the young woman. He ignored Sarai where she stood at the top of the stairs covering her mouth in an obvious show of containing her mirth at his effort with more restraint than he felt should have been necessary. He reached out with his free hand and the woman before him regarded his hand silently before slipping her fingers into his grasp.

Malus guided Carrie down the stairs the last few steps, his hand on the banister shifting to support her arm in an instinctive move. When her feet touched the marble floor he used her momentum to gently pull her around to face him. He lifted her hand, bending into a bow at the waist. Looking up into her eyes he brushed his lips ever so lightly against the back of her knuckles and then straightened back up. Carrie tilted her face back to stare up at him, apparently unsure how to respond to his efforts.

"Miss Carrie, you look more beautiful than ever," he gave her hand a light squeeze before releasing it with obvious reluctance. Malus manfully continued to ignore Sarai who was now making kissing faces at them.

"I, uhm, you're taller than I was expecting you to be."

He blinked back at her. Her blush deepened and she gave a small wince.

"Of course you're taller. Forgive me, I'm not really sure what I was expecting." Carrie gave him a small apologetic smile. Sarai was hanging over the top of the banister indulging silent howls of laughter and quietly beating the banister with her fist. Malus restrained the urge to snarl at the little peacock. Instead he forced his own lips into a rueful grin and kept his eyes on the woman directly in front of him.

"No one would expect you to have any expectations after so long apart. Come, breakfast is waiting, and I'm sure you have questions."

"I can think of a couple," she agreed. He gallantly offered his arm and his cold flesh warmed beneath his jacket where her hand rested.

"Only a couple?" he teased gently. He began to guide her toward the hallway that led to the breakfast chambers he preferred to use when he had to eat mortal food. He had no doubt that the food was warm and waiting. The Levenski's were much too efficient to let anything go wrong. One of the things that could be said of all his followers, they were supremely efficient and devoted to his needs. If they didn't complete a task it was because they had died in the effort. Since there were no life threatening situations involved he was positive that everything was on schedule. He was determined that a good impression be made during their courtship, although it would be a relief when a pattern was finally established and he no longer felt the need to turn his attention to such mundane matters.

"I might be able to come up with a few more given sufficient prompting," Carrie glanced shyly up at him. Then her eyes narrowed suddenly and she raised her voice to call over her shoulder, "You've had your entertainment for the day Sarai, you can knock it off now."

"It takes so little to make me happy. _Why _must you all try to ruin my happy?"

##

Carrie leaned back in her chair, completely full for the first time in weeks. By some silent mutual agreement they had stayed away from serious topics of conversation over the course of their meal. Malus had proven an entertaining host, telling humorous tales of disputes among the locals and telling her some history of the area. She had little to contribute to the area as her life had been quite boring, except for the nearly being murdered and driven from her home bit, but she was reluctant to discuss that over breakfast. Instead she'd kept her end of the conversation by asking questions and listening with rapt attention to his tales. He truly was an excellent story teller, and she became quite drawn in by his tales. Now though there was neither food nor reason to avoid the topic of conversation that had to be addressed.

"Malus," she began awkwardly to break the silence that had settled.

"Carrie," he started speaking at the same time. They both cut off and shared a grin at the fact, despite there being no real reason to find it so amusing. She gestured for him to go ahead, refusing when he tried to insist that she go first.

"Malus whatever I have to say will likely depend on what you are about to say." Carrie shook her head. "Please, speak your piece, and then perhaps I will have an idea of what exactly it is that I want to say."

"I really must apologize. I imagine you coming here and being immediately exposed to Sarai would be enough to throw anyone off balance," he observed wryly. Carrie sniggered at the understatement. Malus nodded to her. He continued to speak more slowly, choosing his words carefully. "And after all this time you probably can't be certain exactly what I hope for since the promise that I begged you to give was so long ago. I certainly don't know what plans you have made since we parted company but I would like to be completely honest with you."

She regarded the bowed head of purple hair, as he turned his attention to the cup in front of him. He began to play with the delicate china rolling it back and forth across the table between his palms in a display of nerves that he hadn't shown all throughout their meal together. Silence stretched tautly between them as the young man searched for a way to speak his thoughts. Carrie sat with her back as stiff as a board. She was fairly certain she knew what the next words out of Malus's mouth would be and she held her breath.

"I have no desire to rescind my offer," he raised his head to pin her with his vibrant violet blue eyes. "I understand if you may feel a reluctance to carry through on a childish whim, but I would ask that you give me the chance to prove my sincerity."

Carrie stared at him, baffled.

"Please. Stay at the manor with me for a year. Let me show you what I have to offer. If at the end of that time you don't feel that you can marry me then I will acknowledge your decision. Do say yes. I'll make you happy, and I'll protect you, just as I promised."

Carrie felt her mouth open and close. She opened her mouth to try once more but again nothing came out.

"Was that a yes?" he frowned at her. A slow wave of dizziness passed over her when she finally remembered to begin breathing again.

"I wasn't expecting... That wasn't… I-I need to think, no I need some air."

Malus regarded her with alarm. She raised a hand and shook her head at him in warning.

"Just give me a second here."

The witch closed her eyes as she tried to gather her scattered thoughts. He was asking to be allowed to prove he was worthy of _her_? How could he make such unbelievable statements with a straight face as though he believed every word he said? Worthy of her? She was a lost child of the Roma. She was a witch. She was nobody. She couldn't live among gypsies as she had been raised too long by the gadjé. She wasn't trusted by the gadjé because she was gypsy born. Among either group that would be willing to overlook her history she would still be a powerful witch, and be rejected for that. It was an accident that she had met up with Petiro and she had very carefully avoided asking why he wandered alone instead of with his family or a kumpania. Malus knew about her powers and was offering her a whole year in which to get to know him and make her decision. She had nothing to lose, but if he could accept her despite her flaws… Oh she had so much to gain. Her breath evened out as she made her decision. Opening red eyes she stared at him levelly.

"I have one year in which to consider your proposal?" she repeated, giving him one last chance to withdraw his offer.

"One year," he agreed solemnly.

"Very well. I will stay with you one year," the witch agreed.

Then the boy flashed her a roguish smile. "Unless I manage to make you fall in love me before the year is up, in which case I would be more than happy to marry you before the allotted time."

A flash of blue leapt from behind a door opposite the one Malus had escorted Carrie through and rushed over to fling pale arms around Malus before the witch could form a reply to that statement. Then Carrie found herself being near smothered by the blue blur. When Sarai drew away grabbed Carrie's hands and swung their arms back and forth like a swinging rope line. Her smile practically split her face and her eyes sparkled with such a genuine joy that Carrie couldn't keep from grinning back, even if it was a rather confused grin.

"She agreed! She's staying!"

"Sarai! Do you have no understanding of the concept of _private _conversations?" Malus growled at the girl who was now doing a bouncy dance around the table and cheering with a complete disregard for her master's ire.

"Don't be such a grumpy old man. She said yes! You should be happy!" the brunette wagged her finger at him.

"I'd be happier if you weren't in the room right now," Malus snapped back, looking frazzled. Sarai stuck out her tongue at him.

"Carrie said yeeeessss! We get to keep her!"

"Why will you not go away?"

"Why should I? I'm being happy for you since you're too stiff to be happy without help!" The two continued to argue even as Sarai continue to a dance and skip around the room in celebration of Carrie's agreement.

A supremely pale man that Carrie had never seen before strolled into the room, took one glance at the scene playing out and rolled his eyes with a very put upon sigh. He noticed Carrie sitting in her chair and apparently he interpreted the somewhat glazed expression on her face correctly for he gave her a sympathetic look.

"Forgive them My Lady. This doesn't happen as often as you might fear it does," he informed her in a voice so deep and smooth that it sent a shiver down her spine. Without another word he planted himself in Sarai's path. As soon as she was within grabbing distance the man reached out and plucked Sarai from the floor. The blue clad girl landed on one dark shoulder in a movement so smooth that Carrie barely saw how it happened.

"_DRAGO!_ Put me down! I was_ buuusy_!"

"So were they," the strange man rumbled at her as he passed through the door where Sarai had been hiding.

"_Thank_ you!" Malus flopped back in his chair, his purple hair standing on end where he had raked his fingers through it in frustration. He planted his face in one hand and Carrie could see the tips of his ears turn pink.

"I am so sorry you witnessed that," Malus groaned in mortification.

Carrie blinked at him.


	5. Chapter 4

**Title:** No Regrets  
**Pairing:** Carrie/Malus  
**Rating:** R-M  
**Summary:** Carrie is reminded of a promise she made long ago after she is driven from her home village.  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own Castlevania N64. All characters associated with the game belong to Konami and Nintendo and whoever else has rights to them, and I make no money off of this. The OC's however are mine, and I'll thank you not to use them without my permission. Then again, maybe you should. I'm having a hard time getting rid of Sarai.

**Chapter 4**

Carrie twirled the tip of her braid around one finger absently as she stared into space. Her mind was adrift, no longer able to center her attention upon the book before her. The spell that she needed to cast was so very difficult; at the moment it required all of her concentration simply to _read_ it. She should be completely focused on understanding the concepts within the grimiore of her ancestress, instead she was thinking of her life since moving into the manor. She'd been there for nearing three months now and she'd grown quite attached to the building and everyone there. She was avoiding what she needed to think on but it felt much safer to dwell on her mundane life instead of the occult powers she would need to harness. Easier to dwell on the manor than the time limit that she had just discovered was drawing near. She only had one chance to cast the spell, to get it right before the opportunity was forever lost to her.

Her mind wandered to the manor itself and the seemingly endless wonders it held for her. She spent a great deal of time in the gardens behind the manor. Soon it would be too cold to sit outside and she would have to find a new place, but for now it was her favorite place for reading the grimoire. There was something soothing about being surrounded by nature while she tried to understand concepts that were beyond anything her education had provided explanations for. She was also quite in love with the sweeping rows of shelves on every topic you could imagine in the library. The books weren't for decoration either. You could feel that they had been handled, worn by repeated readings, bindings creased from being held open. She tried not to spend too much time there, fearing she would become lost in reading the books and be perfectly happy to whither away if she could do so in such a room. And sometimes she simply found herself wandering the hallways of the manor. Easily as fascinating as the library she felt that she would never tire of the beauty of the assorted rooms.

There were also the people who occupied the manor, all even more absorbing than the manor itself.

Often Sarai would pop up unexpectedly and drag her away from her reading to visit the kitchens and her family, Mama Marianne and Papa Adalard. Some days the hyper brunette would declare the manor too boring and she would talk one of the coachmen, Jamison usually, into driving them to town. On those days Carrie enjoyed visiting Rowana at the tavern. The witch would end up waiting there for Sarai when the girl insisted on continuing to shop even after they had picked over all of the items in every small shop in the village.

She'd spoken to Malus's uncle on several occasions. Master Lucien was prone to falling asleep mid sentence so she rarely managed to complete any of the conversations with him, but she found that she was quite fond of the sweet old man. He smelled of tobacco and horehound, and he would begin tales of Malus as a boy when the other wasn't around. A couple of times she had managed to get him to pick up the story he'd begun the next time she spoke with him. That was how she'd gotten the story of how as a child Malus had fallen into the lake that was several miles to the west of the village and managed to get tangled one of the trees that sprouted through the surface of the water. Carrie had immediately resolved to get Malus to take her to the lake at some point when the weather grew warmer.

Carrie had even begun to have short conversations with the rather taciturn Drago whenever she ran into him during her wanderings. He was unfailingly polite, and displayed protective tendencies toward the women in the manor, but it was very difficult to discern his moods. The man was a complete mystery to her. Sarai was quite correct in that he did not have a typical master and servant relationship with Malus. Yet they did not have what could traditionally be termed a friendship either. No one seemed to know how he had come to be in service to Malus or even when exactly. 'It was as though he had always been there and had simply melted into place from the shadows,' Mama Marianne had joked when Carrie had ventured to ask.

And then there was Malus. Heat traced her cheeks. She gave a soft sigh at the thought of the lord of the Manor. Malus was...

He was very intelligent, with a delightfully sly sense of humor that caught her quite by surprise every time he displayed it. Always he made sure to spend time with her no matter how much business Drago dragged him off to attend to. He would join her by the fire in the library in the evenings. Sometimes the blue haired boy escorted her to the garden and they would stroll amongst the plants and flowers. Somehow he always knew what she needed that day. Pleasant conversation when she desired, or companionable silence; he never seemed to mind providing either. He sat with her through most every meal and always asked about her day, or if there was anything she required. She found small gifts placed where she would find them, such as a flower on her plate on the days he couldn't be there. The young man was thoughtful, courteous, kind. Of course she found herself attracted to him. Who wouldn't be? Malus was… so very beautiful. Physically of course, but it was deeper than that.

He was also completely uninterested in her. For all that he was attentive when they together; she felt that he didn't really desire her company; that he would behave the same courtly way were any female standing there with him. There was no physical contact between them unless it was strictly necessary, no gestures of affection beyond the fact that he was willing to spend time in her company and provide her with things. Was there something wrong with her that he seemed to feel no desire for her? She sometimes wondered if he regretted his offer and simply felt obliged to fulfill the deal that he had set in place.

If that was so why was she still living in his home? It was simple and completely selfish. She didn't want to be apart from him, even if all he could feel was a distant affection for her. She closed her eyes with another sigh, this one with a heavy heart. The thought was very nearly as painful as contemplating the nature of the spell that she was planning to perform. Perhaps she should simply return to her book and suffer in a way that had the potential to be productive.

With that decision she turned back to her book and opened it to the page she had stopped in the middle of earlier. Truly it was too important a task to allow her self to be so easily distracted. She knew why she was trying to avoid thinking about what she was going to have to go through to accomplish her goal. The looming specter of failure haunted her.

"Is something wrong My Lady?"

Carrie twisted her head, startled to find Drago standing in the shade of the tree she sat beneath. She silently contemplated the pale man that she hadn't even noticed approach. He was always so quiet, in the way he spoke, in the way he moved. She shook her head slightly and gave him an overly bright smile.

"No, nothing is wrong Drago. It's a beautiful day and all is well with the world."

There was a beat of screaming silence.

"Quite."

"You disbelieve me don't you?" she asked softly. She swallowed and turned eyes to her book so that she would not have to look into his face as she lied.

"What is wrong My Lady?" Drago amended his statement to allow her no room to deny her dissatisfaction.

"It truly is nothing of importance, I appreciate your concern. Thank you for distracting me from my useless thoughts, especially when there is something much more important that I need to turn my attention to."

She held her book up for display, the plain brown leather warm from where she had let it fall to her lap.

"There is nothing that we would fail to acquire for you should you but desire it. Please, if there is anything that we can do to help you, simply ask," he informed her gently.

"That's so very sweet of you. It is not something that can be helped so there is no more point in dwelling on it."

He bowed slightly. Without another word he turned and disappeared through the servant's entrance. Carrie watched him leave.

She had to be prepared to cast the spell soon. She needed to know the truth. For good or for ill she _would_ know the truth.

##

'_Master,'_ Drago's voice whispered along the edges of Malus's mind.

Malus froze in the middle of preparing the next step of his plan for conquering the world. Drago never interrupted Malus when the man knew he was locked in his strategy room.

'_You're supposed to be heading to the village to discuss the arrangements with Rowana. Is something the matter Drago?'_

'_I noticed My Lady when I was readying to depart. She seems distressed about something My Lord. She refused to speak of what was upsetting her but I fear that it is troubling her greatly,'_ his seneschal replied across the link.

'_Thank you. I will deal with it.'_

With that Drago let the link go.

Malus stalked to his office and went to stand at the window overlooking the gardens. From there he was able to see Carrie where she sat beneath the tree that she seemed to favor. He frequently watched her from the window when she sat out there reading. He watched more closely today and he saw why Drago had seemed concerned over the young woman's mood. She sat with her head bowed over the book, but even from here he was able to see that she was paler than usual. Her eyes normally danced with a quiet amusement at the world, but were now shadowed with sadness. Dark circles ringed her eyes as though she had gotten no sleep the night before. Her hair was pulling loose from the ribbon holding it, likely from the way she distractedly played with the end of her braid.

Quickly Malus considered how he wished to approach the problem. If something was wrong with her, or Carrie was displeased with her life in the manor she would be unlikely to tell him. She had already declined speaking with Drago. So that left only one option, and really she was the best choice. He reached out with his mind.

'_Sarai. Come to my office, I need a word with you.'_

'_I'll be right there Sire.'_

Malus continued to watch the young woman from where he stood. He flicked his eyes back and forth until his vision sharpened and he was able to regard her more closely than he could when viewing her as mortal. The skin of her face seemed nearly transparent it truly was so very thin, so delicate. A network of blue veins pulsed with blood beneath her flesh, and the dark circles appeared much like bruises. Her bottom lip was red where she had been biting it. Something was bothering her greatly. He wondered how long she had been showing signs of stress and how he had missed it.

"You had a need of me?" Sarai questioned the second she stepped through the door. She straightened the jacket of her riding dress. Jamison's teenaged nephew had finally managed to break in Handbasket, the newest addition to their stables. She had been planning on a ride in the country side, and had been in the process of arguing the matter with Alin. The boy had a terrible crush on her and would do most anything she asked of him, but his concern for her safety was warring with his instinct to do her bidding. She felt that knocking him unconscious and taking the horse anyway would likely be detrimental to his continuing usefulness, so she was left trying to reason with the reluctant child.

Malus flicked a glance back at her. He tipped his head toward the window, indicating that she should join him. Curious now she swiftly picked her way across the marble tiled floor. She came to the window and froze at the sight that greeted her.

"Carrie looks depressed."

"So it would seem," Malus agreed stonily.

"Why?"

"I have no idea. Three months. I am… uncertain that things are progressing as they should."

"In your courtship you mean? Do you think that has something to do with why Carrie is upset?" Sarai asked, concern etched into her brow.

"Hm. Carrie does not always respond as a normal woman would to my gifts and my overtures."

Sarai shot her lord a disgusted look, "Were she a normal woman you would not have asked her to be your bride. Now you complain that she is what she is."

"That is not what I meant. It is as though she does not recognize… social cues. I would almost say that some tragedy has damaged her ability to understand others in ways that we take for granted, or form any deeper attachment to others. She does not like to speak of herself, or of her past. I need to know what happened to her before she came to the castle to kill me. Whatever it was until it is dealt with she will continue to suffer. That is what is going to prevent my suit from pressing forward."

"She's holding that book again," Sarai announced suddenly. She'd only been half paying attention to her master, trying to place what was bothering her about the picture the blue haired witch presented.

"She has that same book every time she sits in the gardens," Malus grumbled. Then he straightened up quite suddenly. "When she reads in the library she always wears that little smile she gets when she's pleased about something. She never smiles when she reads that book. It does not make her happy, yet it seems a great source of fascination for her," he stared hard at the brown leather. "I wonder…"

"No," Sarai announced flatly.

"No?" Malus asked, startled. He slanted a glance at his little Sarai. It was unlike her to refuse him anything. She had a very resolute expression on her face and shook her curly hair back and forth.

"No. As in no, I am not going to procure the book so you can see what exactly is so interesting about it. You remember that time I came in with my hand nearly burnt off? It was because I touched that accursed book. My fingers barely brushed the cover when this glowing sphere appeared around it. You don't know what that was like. I felt that field power bite into my wrist and when I jerked my hand free it burned every inch of my hand as I passed through it."

Sarai shivered in memory. It had taken over a week for the wound to heal. She'd had to cook up that story about going to visit her 'grandparents' to explain why she wasn't going to be around. And the gloves she'd had to wear when Carrie had wished her farewell had stuck to her charred hand. The pain of getting the glove off had very nearly rivaled the pain of receiving the wound.

"Carrie told me that first day that she didn't let anybody touch that book, she meant it."

"I see."

"I somehow doubt you do, but that is neither here nor there. If that was all you required of me, my Sire?"

Malus glared at her for the disrespectful remark.

"Is there somewhere else you need to be in such a hurry that you are so eager to be quit of my presence?" he asked after a pause when the girl looked back at him in unrepentant silence. He turned back to the window to regard his fiancé.

Sarai gave a disdainful sniff, "Certainly there is. I need to be in the gardens. I think My Lady deserves to have some company while she reads. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Clever girl."

"I take it you'll be wanting a detailed report of the conversation?" Sarai asked archly.

Malus gave her a look of mock confusion, "Whatever do you mean?"

"Don't try for innocent; you really can't pull it off." The normally bouncy girl rolled her eyes.

"Belike," he sighed. "Go find out what is troubling her. Please. She avoids any inquiries I make about her moods, however gently I ask. She may be more inclined to speak of her troubles to you."

"Stop giving such redundant orders. I am practically already there." With that the girl swished out of the room.

Malus turned his violet blue eyes back to the listless witch. Minutes later he watched Sarai stroll through the servant entrance close to the tree with a basket on one arm. Malus leaned one shoulder against a frame of the window and waited to see how little Sarai handled this one.

##

"There you are," Sarai's voice called out cheerfully. "Guess what! I brought us a- Carrie? What's the matter? You look like you haven't slept in days. Aren't you feeling well?"

The blue haired girl hastily scrubbed her face with the heels of her hands.

"You _aren't_ feeling well! What's wrong?" Sarai flung herself on the ground at Carrie's side, setting the basket to the side so she could grab Carrie's shoulders with both hands. Green eyes stared with intense concern into startled red eyes.

"Nothing. It's nothing. I just haven't been sleeping very well is all."

Sarai's eyes fell on the book in her lap. Her brows furrowed, and she bit her lip before she glanced back up into Carrie's face.

"Then is it something to do about that?" Sarai reached forward to touch the book. Carrie saw the gesture and she immediately snatched the leather to her chest and twisted her body away.

"Oh, I am sorry! That's that one book, isn't it? The one you don't let anybody touch?" Sarai leaned forward where she knelt, her hands braced on her knees.

"Yes, this is that book," Carrie relaxed slightly when Sarai made no move to try and touch her family's grimoire again.

"So that's… what's keeping you awake?"

"No. Yes. Mostly."

"I'm not sure I understood that," Sarai said slowly. "If the book isn't completely what's causing you to lose sleep then what _is_ upsetting you?"

"Everything," Carrie gave a soft scoffing laugh at that. She noticed her ribbon slipped free and fluttered to the grass when she shook her head. A glance at her braid showed her how frazzled it had become during the course of the afternoon. Her fingers absently ran through her hair to separate the strands so that she might begin to repair her plait. As quickly as she had untangled her hair she had it neatly back in order with the blue ribbon tied firmly around the end.

"Have you ever desired something so much you would risk everything that you are to get it, yet were terrified of what would happen if you received it?" Carrie asked her eyes going unfocused.

She was not seeing a pretty girl in a green dress and jacket kneeling on the ground near her. Instead she saw torches lighting up the night while a woman's voice rose in wailing grief.

'_Something was wrong. She clutched her book to her chest for comfort as another child might a stuffed toy. The grimarh was given to her by Danior and she had promised to keep it with her always. She tightened her arms about the grimarh as darkened figures moved through the shadows of the campsite. It wasn't right, something was wrong. Ice spread through her veins as a jagged edged pain sliced through her chest. Tears filled her eyes and then flowed down her cheeks, and she bit her lip to keep sound from spill from her lips. The mournful wailing continued unchecked. There was angry shouting but she couldn't hear the words. She wouldn't hear it. She clapped her hands over both ears. Screwing her eyes closed she opened her mouth and screamed. She screamed and screamed, and she would never stop. _

_The soft thud of leather against the hard packed earth hitting was lost beneath the sound of her shattering heart.'_

"-arrie? Carrie?"

The witch blinked and suddenly she was back in the garden. Carrie saw a flash of purple imposed over the honey brown hair, and blue eyes staring out where green should be. Then the vertiginous image of Malus passed and she was able to see the fear growing on Sarai's face.

"Are you related to Malus?" Carrie squinted trying to recapture the image. Sarai had appeared so similar to the young man so clearly for that one second. Now Carrie was unable to see the resemblance to the face that she saw so briefly throughout the days even as it haunted her throughout her dreams.

"What?" Sarai seemed completely thrown by the non sequitur. The witch was too distracted by her own confusion to really dwell on the concern of her friend.

"Forgive me. I thought that you looked… It must have been my imagination."

"You are beginning to scare me. I want to help you, but I don't understand what is going on in your mind. Make me understand so I can help you," Sarai implored, snatching up Carrie's hands and squeezing them. Crimson eyes stared at her, hesitation in their depths.

"It's something I can't explain because I can't understand it myself. It's more than one thing, everything and nothing, all at once. How am I going to master this spell in time? Why am I here?"

"Why are you here? Well you see when a man loves a woman very much-"

Carrie shoved Sarai with her shoulder. The brunette snickered.

"I meant why am I _here_ at Sângeazil?" Carrie rolled her eyes.

"Because we want you to be. Why? Don't you want to be here with us?" Sarai looked hurt.

"Yes. Yes I want to be here, but…"

"But?"

"I feel like there is something missing."

"What?!" the girl cried in obvious dismay as she regarded the witch. "What's missing? We'll find it; we'll get it for you. All you have to do is ask!"

Carrie carefully removed her hands from Sarai's grip. She hesitated for a second before her lips firmed and she gave a small nod. She shifted the book that had landed in her lap so that it lay on the ground. Sarai shifted nervously away. Carrie ignored her as she was flipping through the pages until she found the one she was looking for. She left the book open and gestured for Sarai to have a look. Sarai leaned past Carrie to do as she was bid being very sure not to touch the pages laid out in front of her.

"Uhhm, what exactly am I looking at?" Sarai squinted at the page. The symbols scattered across the page seemed to make no sense to the young woman, as it was very likely they didn't, Carrie mused to herself.

"In the late fifteenth century Trevor Belmont was a vampire slayer who defeated Dracula. Assisting him on his journey was a witch named Sypha Belnades. She is my ancestress, and _this_ is her grimoire."

"It's a spell book. No wonder you don't like people touching it. But what are those scribbles? They don't look like any sort of magical runes or mystic symbols or anything like that." Sarai tilted her head.

"The words are written in the Theban alphabet. First you have to translate the alphabet to get the words. But the words are not in a common language, so in order to even read it you have to speak the Romani. It's in the Zincali dialect, so even Roma from other regions may have some issues in the proper casting of the spells."

"Romani… that's the gypsy language isn't it?" Sarai turned her head to regard the girl at her side.

"Gypsies from Spain, to be more precise. But there's more than that. Within this book are spells that are… too dangerous to be allowed to become known. So there are wards placed on the book which allow only one who is related to Sypha by blood to even lay a finger on it."

"How are the spells dangerous?"

"It depends on which spell you want to cast," the witch answered absently. She stared at the pages in front of her with a troubled look. She had the tip of her braid in one hand and she was running it absently over her lips. "It certainly depends. This spell that I'm studying is very demanding in its terms and it is also powered by blood. And the nature of the spell borders heavily on necromancy."

"So you're trying to cast a spell that you're having a moral dilemma over? If you don't feel comfortable doing it then just don't cast it. Why is that so upsetting?"

"No," Carrie answered slowly. "It's not that it's a moral dilemma for me. It requires no blood offering so no one would be injured. And it's not a true necromancy."

"I thought you said it was blood magic," Sarai frowned at her.

"I said it was powered by blood," Carrie corrected.

One of Sarai's finely arched eyebrows twitched and she frowned severely. "Could you be a little more vague?"

"It's a spell that allows you to tap the memories of your family. Not your memories, but _theirs_. You share the experiences that they had, learn what they learn. It was a tool so that the knowledge could be passed down. It's powered by blood because you can only access the memories and the magic of those you are related to _by_ blood. But as I said, it is complex and I am having to decipher every line as I go."

"So you would be able to know your birth family," Sarai stated thoughtfully. She was adopted too so she could understand Carrie's desire to be close to the memory of her family. Still…

"What is it going to cost you to cast that spell?"

Crimson eyes stared at her without understanding. "Cost me?"

"Blood magic, even borderline blood magic carries a price with it. And that one promises to grant the caster greater power. What. Is. The. Catch?" Sarai spoke slowly as though to a simple minded child. Carrie cast the other girl an irritated look before going back to staring at the book again.

"The biggest danger of the spell is that the memories that you experience are chronologically in reverse."

"Which means…?" Sarai rolled her hand until the palm was facing up in a 'what?' gesture.

"It means the memories begin with the death of the relative. If your mind isn't strong enough there is the risk that you can go insane, but that's not really a problem," Carrie answered vaguely. She closed the brown book, with a heavy sigh,

"Of course, because the risk of insanity isn't a high price at all," Sarai agreed facetiously.

The blue haired witch shook her head firmly in complete seriousness. "No, it isn't, because I know my mind is stronger than that."

"Then what_ is_ the problem?"

"I'm having trouble with translating the spell. The planetary alignment necessary to cast the spell will be happening in less than two months. I fear I will not be prepared to cast the spell when that time comes."

"Cheer up Carrie. Even if you don't get the spell translated in time for this planet alignment thing, you can always try to have it ready for the next time it happens." Sarai smiled brightly.

Truthfully the brunette was relived that a spell was all that was troubling her. If Carrie had complaints about Malus or had decided that even if she stayed with them for the full year that she wouldn't want to stay beyond that then she would have been really worried. Then Sarai jerked her attention back to the witch when she noticed Carrie shaking her head sadly. The witch slumped against the tree with her eyes closed and her face turned up to the sky.

"The configuration of planets necessary for the spell only happens once every two hundred years. There won't _be _a next time if miss this chance."

"Oh." Sarai hesitated for a second. She wondered if being turned into a vampire would make Carrie feel better about her prospects of having another go if she missed this planetary thing. Malus would be more than happy to accommodate her. Then green eyes widened as a wonderfully brilliant idea struck the girl. She felt the immediate need to share it with her friend. "Maybe," she began excitedly, "Maybe you should ask Master! He knows all sorts of languages and stuff, and if he doesn't he knows people he can ask and he can help you find out! Then you can cast your spell and be happy again!"

Sarai placed a finger on her cheek and twisted it back and forth as she flashed a smile. Carrie stared at her for a moment processing the suggestion. Then the witch straightened up as the idea took root.

"Do you think so? Do you think he wouldn't mind helping me? He has so much to do with tending to the village I'd hate to inconvenience him," Carrie began, doubt warring with hope in her voice.

"The village can tend itself, and Drago can take over that foolish paper work nonsense for a while!" Sarai declared with an airy wave of her hand. "Neither of them would mind a bit since it's for you. And it's only temporary isn't it? You said that you didn't have long before you had to cast this spell, right? And really, what's a few weeks without every single detail being tended to versus a once in every two hundred years event?"

Carrie chuckled. Quite suddenly she felt so much better.

"Hey! You're happy again. That's good. Now we can get to the important stuff; namely, the picnic basket. Mama made us some chicken, and I don't know what else was shoved in there. We should find out."

"Oh Sarai! You are priceless! I hope you never change!" Carrie flung her arms around the other girl and laughed.

"I rarely do. Now have some food. That'll make you feel even better. And then you can go speak with Master and see if he has any ideas."


	6. Chapter 5

**Title:** No Regrets  
**Pairing:** Carrie/Malus  
**Rating:** R-M  
**Summary:** Carrie is reminded of a promise she made long ago after she is driven from her home village.  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own Castlevania N64. All characters associated with the game belong to Konami and Nintendo and whoever else has rights to them, and I make no money off of this. The OC's however are mine, and I'll thank you not to use them without my permission.  
**Special Notes: **It has taken me a while to work up to it, but this chapter is a major turning point in the story, and I had a hard time writing it, so perhaps you will forgive the slow beginning and read on to the end.  
Again, thanks to williewildcat and Lisa for your continued support.

**Chapter 5**

Carrie raised her hand and knocked firmly. Never before had she sought Malus out, certainly she had never felt comfortable enough to seek him while he was tending business in his personal study. She lowered her hand to clutch the grimoire to her chest. It was a habit she'd had for as long as she could remember. Any time the book was in her presence she would hold it, an instinctive protectiveness toward the book, and a defensive shield between her and the world. She waited tensely for an answer, shoulders stiffening with every passing second. Was it really just that morning that she had poured out her woes to Sarai as though she were one of those silly little nits from the village who bemoaned being ignored by boys they had never even attempted to speak to?

This was a bad idea. Surely he would laugh at her for making such a silly request. _'Why did you even knock?'_ she mentally berated her self. _'But if I hadn't knocked and Sarai spoke to him about helping me with this, then I would look weak for not having the courage to ask him my self.'_ Her voice of reason argued back. So caught up in her thoughts she jumped when the knob turned and the door swung inward.

The breath caught in her throat.

Sinfully molded to long legs was a pair of black pants that disappeared into polished knee high boots with a gold trim, much like his favored pair. There was not a hint of purple save that of his hair and his familiar jacket and ascot tie with pin was missing. The white shirt he wore stretched across surprisingly broad shoulders and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows displaying strong forearms. The top buttons were undone revealing his collar bone and a hint of muscular chest. Pale, pale flesh was very nearly the color of his shirt and his normally violet hair looked darker without the purple jacket to bring out the highlights.

Carrie stared. She had never seen Malus so… She swallowed thickly. How was it that he seemed smaller and less intimidating in his usual clothes?

"Carrie. What are you doing here?" he peered quizzically at her, the frustrated look having faded as soon as he realized who was standing outside his door. "Not that you aren't welcome," he hastened to add.

She jerked her gaze away from the triangle of flesh displayed by his open collar. How strange that such a small thing could have such a large impact on her. She had seen men with less covering before, and yet, this was Malus and he had never _once_ appeared before her without full formal attire. Perhaps she should seek him out more often, the traitorous thought flitted through her mind and she firmly shoved it back into the darkened shadows it crawled out from to say such wicked things. Snapping out of her daze she caught up with the fact that he had just asked her a question.

"You're busy. I didn't mean to bother you," she blurted down at the white marble tiles with their cheerful swirls of gold. She resented their cheerfulness.

"You could never be a bother," he corrected her gently. "Was there something you needed?"

"I had a favor I wanted to ask, but if now is not a good time…" Carrie trailed off. Flame rushed to her cheeks. She peeked up at the young man through her lashes uncertainly.

"Not a bit. I've been hoping for an excuse to stop working for most of the day. I hadn't expected to be granted such a pleasant one." He opened the door wide in invitation. "Please, do come in."

She didn't move. "I thought, um... I understood you dislike people around your personal property- isn't this your private study?"

Malus quirked a small, but devastating, smile at her fumbling attempt at clarification.

"Strange thing that. As it happens the entire property is mine, for all that some of the residents choose to forget this fact. Yes this is my private study and no I do not allow many people to enter it. Are you not going to come in then?"

Come in? As in move past him to get into the room? she wondered wildly. When she quite suddenly felt as though she were holding magical nitro, and every ounce of coordination had deserted her body? Carrie finally convinced her limbs to move and ducked past him into the room. She stared around at the décor in the hopes that her blush wasn't as horribly obvious as she feared it was. There was a heavy wooden desk angled toward the cheerfully crackling fire. A window to the side of the room let dim light filter over the chairs arranged around a low circular table beside yet another lit fireplace. Bookshelves lined the wall next to the window and a suit of armor graced the corner opposite the desk. Tapestries lined the free walls, and there was a sword displayed above each mantle. Scattered across the deep cherry wood were stacks of papers and a pot of ink with a quill standing inside. His gloves were resting on a corner beside one of the larger stacks and his jacket was tossed over the back of his desk chair. Her embarrassment faded in the face of the evidence that she had disturbed his work. Now she felt guilty for coming to beg his help. No matter what Sarai said on the matter Malus must surely be important to the well being of the village.

She nearly jumped when a gentle hand at the small of her back guided her toward the chairs. She was intensely aware of the fact that he was not wearing gloves at that instant. Once he sensed that she was moving on her own the hand disappeared, but she was able to feel the heated outline of each and every finger against her flesh when it was gone. The small table was set with an uneaten plate of food and a tea tray, which proved a thankful distraction to the realization of just how unbalanced she felt by this entire encounter. None of this conversation was going the way she had envisioned it and she wasn't quite sure how to proceed.

"You weren't at supper. Is everything alright?"

"A minor issue regarding a neighboring lord is all. It's nothing that can't be dealt with easily enough. That and I had to settle some arrangements for Sarai's trip. I had simply hoped to get it out of the way so that I would have more time to spend with you later," Malus answered smoothly.

"Sarai's trip?" Carrie asked with raised brows. She set the book at her side so that it was pressed reassuringly between her hip and the side of the chair once she was settled into her seat. "She hadn't mentioned a trip when we spoke earlier."

"The summons came late this afternoon. Her husband is requesting her presence at their estate. Would you care for some tea?" he asked.

"Please," Carrie responded automatically as her mind raced around the idea of the bouncy brunette being married. Surely she was too young and too… _Sarai_, to be married. What kind of man was her husband that he would permit her to run around as though she were a child? On the other hand, what kind of man could prevent her from doing so? Absently she accepted the tea cup that Malus handed her with a softly murmured thanks. Honestly a part of her mind had always wondered at the fact that Malus expressed any form of interest in _her_ when Sarai was there and the two were already close. In fact that had been a large part of why she could never bring herself to truly bring herself to take his suit seriously, but to discover that the girl was already attached to someone else…

Carrie's brows knit together as she attempted to process all the questions that were running around in her mind. Finally she latched onto the first fully formed thought she could get her hands on. "I hadn't realized that she was married. I know it's not truly my place to ask, but is there a particular reason she is living at Sângeazil if she has her husband's estate to tend to?"

"Mmm," Malus took a sip of the tea he held.

The young lord leaned back, sinking into the cushions. He crossed his right leg over his left one so that the heel of his boot nearly touched the arm of the chair and his thighs formed a distracting v shape that Carrie very firmly avoided looking at. The saucer holding his cup was balanced on his knee and held in place with one hand that rested as much against the arm of the chair as it did the cup. Truly she had never seen him so casual and relaxed as he appeared now.

"Sarai hates being alone for long periods, and Dreqi travels extensively. When he isn't home she comes here to stay with her family, and her most trusted servants tend the estate. Her husband likes to send word of his impending arrival of course, so when he does make time to return from his work she always returns home to be sure to greet him. Claims he's nothing but bones when she isn't there to look to his health," Malus looked amused.

"He must be truly impressive if he can keep up with Sarai. I should quite like to meet him some day," the witch ventured to say. She would have to make sure to give the Sarai the batch of cream she had made before the brunette departed Carrie realized. She'd made creams and scented soaps for the women back in the village, and after the conversation came up with Sarai that morning she had spent the afternoon making some for her friend.

Malus's lips twitched into a devious grin, "I'm sure you'll get the chance at some point, my dear."

Carrie gave an uncertain smile back feeling positive that there was a joke she was missing in his words. Malus seemed to sense her confusion in that way he had, as his face smoothed into more favorable lines. Then he began to study her more closely and his lips drew down in concern.

"Are you quite well, Carrie? You are looking as though you have not been resting. If it's not too bold of me to say so, it worries me that you look so pale."

Carrie glared at him, even as she unconsciously raised a hand to her face. He was one to speak of being overly pale, she thought snippily. As quickly as her irritation appeared it slipped away. Come to that, he was likely to be right. She hadn't slept well since that night she'd used the observatory to chart the stars. She very likely did look awful if even Malus was commenting on it. There was a remaining sting, but that would fade quickly enough. Perhaps she should make a double batch of cream next time and use some for herself, she thought with a sigh.

Malus watched her reaction with sharp interest from beneath hooded eyes.

"I've insulted you. Forgive me."

"It's nothing. Do not distress yourself with the vagaries of my moods. I know no insult was intended," Carrie answered firmly before blowing into the mouth of the steaming cup she held.

Malus nodded thoughtfully, seeming willing to accept her words at face value, for which she was grateful.

"As you like. Now tell me more of this favor I can perform. I am most interested in knowing what would bring you to me when you have never sought me out before," he spoke lightly as he leaned back in his seat. Apparently he felt that he had allowed her to stall for long enough.

She had two choices. She could go back to working on her own, possibly wasting valuable time searching through the library for books that may not be there, and risk losing the opportunity to learn what had happened when she was a child. The second option was that she could ask Malus to help her, possibly get the information she needed in time, and get to spend more time in the company of the man she was attracted to and practically promised in marriage to. The witch hesitated for a moment. Her eyes landed on the desk with papers neatly stacked. She couldn't possibly ask for more than he had already given up to her, or take him away from his duties. Her gaze dropped to the grimoire at her side. And yet… She couldn't risk not having his help for this. It was too important.

She opened her mouth to speak but when nothing came to mind she raised her cup to try to cover her confusion. Malus waited. Carrie felt awareness of his gaze creep along her spine in a way that it never had before. Something had changed between them. Somehow she hadn't even noticed what it was or when it happened, she thought helplessly. A blush rose to her cheeks and she all at once found her self unable to meet his eyes for some reason. She must have used all of her wits talking herself into speaking with Malus that she had completely neglected figuring out what she desired to tell him, the blue haired witch thought with exasperation. She toyed with the handle of her cup, seeking for words in which to phrase her request. Carrie leaned forward to carefully set her cup and saucer down on the table.

"I wanted to request your help with a," Carrie fumbled for a word here before continuing firmly, "a translation. There is a spell I would have translated and I need it to be done quickly. I was wondering if you would be willing to offer me your assistance."

"A translation for a spell," Malus spoke slowly. He seemed somewhat taken aback by her request. "Might I ask exactly why you intend to cast this spell?"

"Because 'family is all'," she quoted softly. She stared at her own hands now held palms up in the air in front of her. "That is, it _was_ a belief that was held by my birth family. By Pietro's account, a similar belief is held among many Roma, but it was more so than was usual within my family. There was something about us, perhaps our magic, which set us apart, even among the other gypsies. I never understood why, I was so little. Something happened, something bad. Our family separated from the kampania it had been traveling with since they had escaped from Spain, and for some reason we ended up in Count Dracula's lands."

Her head snapped up and she pinned him with a fiery red gaze. Her hands were clenched and she barely noticed when an orb of energy flared to life in both hands causing her bangs to lift away from her face in an up swirl of magical energy. She wanted to wait for his reaction, to not say anything she didn't have to but now that she was admitting her reasons aloud it seemed she couldn't stop the words from continuing to spill from her mouth.

"My family had no business being there, and they wouldn't have been had they not left the kumpania. They could have gone anywhere once they had separated from the families that we had traveled with. They _chose_ to enter his lands; they weren't driven there, not by the other clans. I watched my father, aunts and cousins burned as witches by superstitious villagers. I saw my mother and the remainder of my family murdered by vampires. After I had been adopted I watched my mother die to allow me to escape Dracula's minions. I need to know what drove my family into a territory where they risked losing so much when preserving what was left of our family was paramount."

"This spell will grant you that insight?" Malus watched her with an unreadable expression on his face.

The power faded from her hands as she seriously considered her answer. Carrie slumped back in her chair to rub her hands over her face, "I don't know. I don't know anything apparently. Except that I have to take the chance. If I am ever to have any peace, I have to."

"And if it doesn't grant you what you seek?" Malus man asked in a gentle voice. Violet blue eyes regarded her patiently. She sat up straight to stare back at him defiantly.

"I won't have it! I have enough nightmares; I refuse to spend the rest of my life fearing the shadows that lie hidden inside dreams of a part of my childhood that I cannot even _remember_. As it is, I am suspended without direction in my own head. If it doesn't work then I will know I have tried and then hopefully I will have a point to start my journey to moving on."

A slow smile lit his face as fierce pleasure radiated from the lines of his body.

"Very well spoken," he announced. "You've quite convinced me to help you. Although in honesty's name, the convincing was completely unnecessary. I take it this spell is in that book of yours? If you would like to leave your book here I can begin deciding what resources would be most valuable in deciphering its code."

"No!" Carrie blurted out, horrified at the thought of her- of Malus coming to harm, as he surely would have were he to touch the grimoire.

"No? Then you do not desire my assistance after all?"

"No, I didn't mean that, I mean… I can't leave my book with you. No one can touch it but me."

He tilted his head and offered her a slow blink of confusion. She winced.

"It's the family grimoire and blood warded so that only a member of my family's bloodline can touch it."

Dark eyebrows rose. "Powerful magic that. And dangerous as well. Are all the spells cast by your family so…?" he waved one hand through the air in a gesture meant to imply the threat inherent in attempting to use such extreme spells.

"Actually since I have to translate the book as I go I haven't completely figured out what all the spells are. The blood warding and memory ritual are the most unfortunate ones so far. The rest have been very tame, and not written in ancient script and then coded in obscure languages. So I think it's safe to assume any of the ones I can't learn from reading and repetition might turn out to be potentially unhealthy to the caster or target of the spell."

"Just how dangerous is this spell you plan on casting?" Malus asked directly.

"Not as dangerous as the blood warding spell and I'm very confident I can meet the terms as long as I can finish deciphering it before all the planets are all configured on the same side of the sun. The alignment is crucial, hence the quickly in my request, otherwise I wouldn't be bothering you with my problem."

"I'm finding that I quite enjoy being bothered. And I trust your judgment on how much you can handle, so if you say you can cast it, then you can," he stood up with a stretch. Carrie's eyes followed the movement, not able to resist staring at the way the shirt stretched across his chest revealing a tantalizingly hints at the slim torso hidden beneath. "Hm, perhaps it would be best to begin with the basics," Malus mused aloud.

"Uhm," she swallowed and closed her eyes briefly. Surely the room didn't require _two_ fireplaces. "The basics will work."

"Wonderful. You did say that the words were written in a different alphabet, do you know which one?"

"Uh- Theban," she stared as he walked away. His dark pants clung to every curve of his backside, and when he walked the smooth stride reminded her of panther she had once seen a picture of. Even captured in the stillness of an artist's pen you could still feel the movement of the giant cat, all sleek muscles flowing beneath black skin. Her face flamed as she realized exactly what she was staring at. She jerked her eyes away, and drew the book up to her chest as though hoping the familiar comfort would be enough to calm her racing heart. What was wrong with her? She'd felt shy and awkward at first, but then their time together had become simple and comfortable. She had never been this hyper aware of Malus before.

"I have a couple of books that can be useful to us then. I can pull them right now if you don't mind waiting. It may take me a few moments to find them," Malus announced thoughtfully from where he stood peering up at titles with slender fingers dancing over spines. Was the desire, she blushed at the realization, for such it was, completely her own and not on his? Did he feel even remotely as aware of the thick tension that she felt this instant? There had never been this charge in the air, this shortness of breath when she gazed at him before.

Disturbed by her jumbled emotions she did the only thing she could do. She shoved them aside and waited. She had come to _him_ after all, and she'd seem horribly ungrateful if she wasn't willing to comply with his suggestions. With fingers that trembled only slightly she pulled the grimoire to her lap and opened the leather and turned pages until she arrived at the ribbon marker. Malus's face appeared next to her own. Carrie's breath escaped in a startled gasp of air and she jerked her head back.

"Is this the spell you're working on?" he stared at the page as though it were the most fascinating thing in the world. She was aware of the hand on the back of her chair as he leaned over her shoulder to have a look at the book. His hand hovered in the air over the yellowed pages. She grabbed his wrist without thinking. His head turned until his face was inches from hers. She could feel his breath puff across her face.

##

'_Finally,'_ his mind purred in satisfaction.

He'd promised himself that he wouldn't become more active in his pursuit of the witch unless she indicated that she returned his interest, and she was just _beginning_ to respond as a typical woman would have long since. He'd have had a typical woman bedded and married within the first week of such terms as he had offered. Her hand tightened around his wrist and he favored her with a confused expression that would make him seem quite unaware of his intrusion into her personal space. Her heart stuttered for a second before picking up to beat more furiously than ever. He allowed understanding to flit across his face.

"Ah, the blood wards. I had completely forgotten about them in my excitement at seeing such a finely preserved book. It appears quite old."

From this distance Malus was able to enjoy watching the way that her pupils dilated. A soft pink tongue swiped nervously over her lips leaving them glistening. He could hear the erratic beat of her heart, and he'd been struggling to focus beyond that wonderful promise of fiercely pumping blood surging through her veins during their entire conversation. He wondered what had triggered her interest when she had never before shown an indication that she considered him any more than she regarded the other members of his household. That thought rankled, but he mentally shrugged the feeling away so that he could consider the source of her sudden desire. For that was what she felt at this instant, he could smell it clinging to her skin. He took another breath, savoring the scent that he had been working for.

What had he done differently this night that he had never done before? Allowed her into his space? No, her interest had begun even before that. So when had he first sensed it? It was almost as soon as he opened the door, so it wasn't their conversation that had begun the change in her awareness. So it had to have been something she had seen. He cast a glance down at his body. His clothing was different. He wasn't wearing his full suit since he rarely bothered when he was dealing with the monotony of his business. She liked him in more casual clothes? Upon reflection he had never worn anything but his full formal wear in front of the witch. That would have to change.

Malus gave her a bright grin.

Her shoulders relaxed and she gave an indulgent smile in return. Fascinating. Apparently boyish enthusiasm was endearing, perhaps even comforting to her. He should display it more often. It certainly would give him more excuse to touch her if he seemed unaware of him self at times and if it confused her then even better. If he planned this carefully then she would feel his touches and wonder. If he were successful then she would come to crave his touch, want it to be more than casual brushes that she couldn't decipher the intent of.

His interest in the book was not completely feigned. He would surely love to find out what all spells were hidden within those pages, but the spells were secondary to acquiring the witch who could cast them. It was easy enough to display pleasure, and the sincerity behind the gesture would only add to his new plan in the long run. The fact that she would attribute it to the book and not his change in plans was not his problem.

"Here, I thought we could start with these books," he nodded to the stack of books he'd set on the table while she was absorbed with the spell book in her hands and attempted to look excited. If that was what it took, he decided with a mental shrug. He certainly wasn't going to volunteer the information that he could quote any line of any page of any book in the building. The thought of even _pretending_ to read these books again made him want to groan. Truly they were dry as toast and their words stuck in your throat as easily.

"If we split them up we can cover more information," Carrie began to sift through the small stack of books. As casually as possible she leaned forward to put some space between them and then seemed to become engrossed in the books before her. He watched the way her hand hovered over two of the books from the pile. "We could each pick a few and then compare notes. If we start reading tonight we can discuss what we've found over breakfast in the morning."

'_No!'_ hissed through Malus's mind.

"No," he blurted out in echo of his thoughts before he could he had time to think about what he was saying.

Startled red eyes turned toward him.

"I mean, we should not start reading tonight. The books will still be here in the morning. I know I have had a long day, and you look exhausted. Perhaps it would be best if we waited to begin until we both have a clear head."

"Ah. You're probably right," she agreed with regret tracing her words. He wondered if the regret was completely over the books. He hoped not. "In that case I shall take my leave, and make sure to be well rested tomorrow. I feel much better now knowing that I'll have your help on this," she smiled up at him.

"Please, allow me to escort you to your quarters. For all that I doubt our ability to give these books the attention they deserve I find myself loathe to lose your company."

A head of blue hair ducked shyly, and a soft blush blossomed over her cheeks. The violet haired man held his arm out to her. She took the offered arm and they began a slow stroll through the hallways, as though they were on a stroll through the garden. He watched with pleasure as her blush deepened. He made sure to keep conversation light, asking her about her day. She spoke of Sarai's impromptu picnic and explained that was how the subject of her research had come up to begin with. A comfortable silence fell between them as they neared their destination. Soon they were nearing before the door to her suite of rooms.

'_Sarai!' _

'_Whaaat?'_ she whined back in irritation. A faint sense of the fact that he was interrupting her feeding slithered along their connection, but he was completely unconcerned with her comfort at this second.

'_As soon as you're finished with your meal, pack. You have tomorrow to spend some time with Carrie, and then you are going to make yourself scarce for the next little while.'_

'_Pack?'_ she asked bewildered. _'Where am I going?'_

'_The Castle.'_

'_The Castle? Honestly, what am I going to do there'?_

'_Craft collars for the werewolves. Organize my minions into a generalized spring cleaning if you must. Spend some time with your husband. I do not care what you do while you are there so long as you stay away from here.'_

'_Why are you getting rid of me? What did I do wrong?!'_ she wailed back.

Hurt washed back through the link and he closed his eyes.

'_Nothing,'_ he soothed. _'You have gone above and beyond in helping me since Carrie's arrival. But right now, I need a clear playing field. I need to limit Carrie's outside support so that she will turn to me more often. The fact that you even had to suggest that Carrie come to me with her problem tells me that I have made myself too unapproachable.'_

'_Oh.'_

'_Yes, oh.' _He let out a sigh. _'Although I would appreciate it if you stayed in contact through letters. I don't want her to feel completely isolated.'_

'_I can do that,' _Sarai chirped happily.

Now that she was reassured about his reasons she was perfectly willing to go along with his plan. It would be horribly boring for her to stay at the Castle, he knew. She hated being bored more than anything in the world. She'd rather experience pain than boredom. It was a testament to how much she cared that she never questioned his directive. His motive, she would question, but not his orders.

'_Perhaps Dreqi will be willing to take you on his travels from time to time if the Castle becomes too stifling,'_ Malus suggested.

Whatever Sarai response to that was lost as Carrie placed a hand on his arm, halting their walk. Malus dragged his attention from his mental conversation to turn toward her. Then her eyes rose to his with a serious expression.

"I do appreciate all that you've done for me since I've been here Malus. I know I haven't thanked you enough for any of it really, but I want you to know that I _do_ appreciate it."

"It has been my pleasure Carrie. You have to know that I would do anything to ensure your stay."

Including marrying her against her will as the marriage contract already permitted him to do, but that was neither here nor there. Carrie didn't enter her room. Her hand was wrapped about the knob, but she hesitated. She seemed to struggle with whether or not she should say what was on her mind. He waited, curious as to what she was thinking.

"Why?" she asked in a small voice.

"Why?" he repeated, sincerely confused this time. Malus was hard pressed to say which of them had sounded more lost by the turn the conversation had taken.

"I- You say you would do anything to marry me, but you first made up your mind as a child. And now… You still don't know me well. Why are you being so… Surely there are women better suited to the lifestyle you have. Someone who would be better able to understand your responsibilities?"

He stared at her.

And _that_ more than anything gave him an understanding of the way her mind worked than he had discovered in the months of observing her and interacting with her. She didn't see her value as he did. She did not know what she would have to contribute to such a partnership that he couldn't find elsewhere as easily and with less of the social stigma she felt herself to carry. And with what he now knew of her background he realized that he would have to press his suit a little more firmly than he had been rather than giving her the space to consider what he had to offer. In fact subtlety would likely be completely wasted on the young witch. A direct approach then, but that didn't mean he couldn't have fun with it.

He raised his hand to cup her cheek and leaned forward. Her breath caught in her throat at the gesture. His forehead rested against hers and he stared deeply into her eyes. He allowed his voice to go husky, caressing her as he wished he could.

"If you believe that then you obviously do not see yourself as I do. A mistake I will have to rectify."

With that he stepped back and gave her a small bow. She stared at him, shock written across her face. Her fingers gripping the doorknob were white knuckled.

"Sleep well, my lady."

He turned and strode away. Malus gave into temptation and stopped once he had turned the corner. He leaned against the wall and tilted his head. He was enjoying listening to the song of her erratic heartbeat. After an eternity of silence from the corridor that Carrie continued to stand in she finally responded.

"Sleep well?" she spoke aloud. A disbelieving huff of breath followed the words. "And how exactly am I supposed to sleep well after _that_?"

Malus smiled.


End file.
